


Holocene

by bashert



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1244593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashert/pseuds/bashert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Will's going to flip his lid," Charlie pointed out, unnecessarily. That, Mac thought, was an understatement.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Is that why you wanted to warn me? So I could help contain Will's explosion?"</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Post-finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really unsure about this one. (I'm generally unsure about these things. I have crippling self-doubt.) But I also think I might continue it. (I'm also a contradiction. It's fun). The title is from the song by Bon Iver.

_Not the needle, nor the thread, the lost decree_  
 _Saying nothing, that's enough for me_  
 _And at once I knew I was not magnificent_  
 _Hulled far from the highway aisle (Jagged vacance, thick with ice)_  
 _And I could see for miles, miles, miles_ \- Bon Iver

* * *

The first sign that it was not good was when Charlie called her up to his office with the instructions that she come alone. The second sign was that when she entered his office, there were already two glasses of scotch poured. One in front of him and the other waiting for her on the front of his desk. The third was the uncharacteristic frown on his face; his eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Shit, what's happened now?" Mac asked, dropping down into the seat across from him. She made sure to grab the glass of scotch as she went. Whatever it was, she was sure as hell she was going to need it. Charlie sighed.

"Rebecca came by with the first set of depositions," Charlie sighed.

"I can tell by your expression that you are unimpressed," Mac said, taking a sip of the scotch.

"There's just no good way..." Charlie paused. "He's going after you. Dantana. He's going after all of us, but mostly he's going after _you_." Charlie stiffened, holding his breath, waiting for her reaction. She drained the glass of scotch and nodded.

"Okay," Mac replied.

"Okay?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"What am I supposed to say?" Mac shot back. "Dantana's focusing on me. Okay. There's not much else I can say."

"Will's going to flip his lid," Charlie pointed out, unnecessarily. That, Mac thought, was an understatement.

"Is that why you wanted to warn me? So I could help contain Will's explosion?" Mac raised an eyebrow in Charlie's direction, and he had the good sense to look marginally sheepish.

"It crossed my mind," Charlie answered. Mac nodded, standing and crossing to Charlie's bar, and pouring herself another stiff drink.

"What's he saying?" Mac asked. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she needed Charlie to confirm it. "What's his angle?"

"He's saying you're an unreliable witness," Charlie answered. "He's saying that you suffer from undiagnosed PTSD, and that he has proof that you make reckless and dangerous decisions, and that you created an atmosphere in which he felt he had to do whatever was necessary in order to get the story."

"Including doctoring raw footage?" Mac clarified.

"Including doctoring raw footage," Charlie confirmed.

"Well," Mac let out a long sigh. "Shit." She finished her second drink and stood. "I'll try to keep Will from doing anything any of us will regret."

"That's all I can ask," Charlie gave her a small smile. "I don't expect you to work miracles."

"Right," Mac gave a laugh, but it came out more liquid sounding than she had hoped.

"Mac?" Charlie's eyes narrowed in concern, and he crossed from behind his desk and laid both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Jerry Dantana's a fucking asshole. And so full of bullshit that I'm surprised it doesn't coming dribbling out every time he opens his mouth." He gave her arms a squeeze. "Anything you need, kiddo, you just let me know. I can help tie Will down to his chair if you need me to. We might have to when he finds out." He gave her a wink and then moved back towards his desk. Mac started towards the door, but then stopped just as her hand reached the handle.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"In the spirit of full disclosure," Mac fidgeted slightly. "The PTSD thing? It's not undiagnosed." To his credit, if Charlie was surprised, he didn't show it. He just nodded, taking this new information in and digesting it.

"Does Will know?" He finally asked.

"No, not...we haven't talked about it yet," Mac admitted. "I'm going to tell him, I just...it's just been _so_ good, and I didn't..." She trailed off and shrugged.

There was still plenty that she and Will had to discuss. Her PTSD was just the tip of it. They had been in a blissful, honeymoon phase since he slid the ring on her finger on Election Night. Neither had brought up any subject that might stir up hurt or resentment for fear that they would shift the equilibrium of their newly rediscovered relationship. And Mac knew that was cowardly; knew that they should have more faith in their relationship, in each other. She knew that they were both all in, but every time she started to bring an unpleasant topic of conversation up, it died on her tongue. It was just so _nice_ , after all the shit they had gone through, all the shit that was going on in their professional lives, to be able to retreat into each other and block out the rest of the world.

Will saw the new scars that littered her body. Knew on an intellectual level that she had been through some things while she was embedded. Knew the vague details, having seen the long, puckered scar on her stomach. But he didn't ask questions, and she didn't offer up details. She used the word "attacked" instead of "stabbed," brushed off the scar on the inside of her elbow and the back of her calf, telling him that they were from debris, and not using the word "shrapnel," which was loaded and heavy with insinuations. She didn't tell him how scared she had been in the moments she received those scars, gripping Jim's hand in hers as the night air exploded with light, smoke, and sound. Didn't tell him how she learned to sleep lightly, ready to move, move, _move_ when one of the marines shook her awake and told her that they had to go.

"You need to tell him," Charlie said, firmly.

"I know," she answered. "I will. Tonight. I'll tell him tonight."

"Good," he said. "Wait, Mac." She stopped again and Charlie came over, pulling her in for a hug and pressing a kiss into her hair. "You're one tough broad, kid. And I don't say that to just anyone." She laughed into his shoulder. "Dantana's going to rue the day he decided to take on MacKenzie McHale."

"Thanks, Charlie," she whispered. She pulled away, squared her shoulders, and walked out of his office.

* * *

Will was waiting in her office when she came back, sitting in her chair, his feet up on her desk, reading the paper. He glanced up when she walked in.

"Get your feet off my desk," Mac immediately admonished, but gave him a grin. "Were you raised in a barn?"

"Close," he shot back. She leaned down and dropped a kiss to his lips, and he snaked an arm around her waist. "I haven't seen you since we walked in this morning. Tess said that you were up in Charlie's office? What did he want?"

"Can we talk about it later? We've got to get to the rundown soon," she answered. Will's eyes narrowed; he hated to be left in the dark, particularly when it came to MacKenzie, but she knew that this was not the type of conversation to squeeze in between rundown meetings.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, and then rethought her position. "I don't know, actually. But I promise I'll tell you all about it after the show." He stood, and she pitched forward into his arms.

"Mac," he started.

"After the show," she repeated, punctuating her statement with a kiss.

She caught Will sending concerned looks her way all day, and every time she would give him a reassuring smile, which didn't appear to be helping.

"You're going to have a heart attack if you don't relax," Mac said into his ear during a break in the broadcast. "Tension is coming off of you in waves. Try to look less...."

"Less what?" He asked.

"Constipated," she finished. He let out a bark of laughter, and she was grateful to see that he did relax, however slightly. After the show, he surprised her by changing more quickly than usual, appearing in her office with his coat and no briefcase, a sign that he wasn't bringing any work home with him. Mac followed his lead, grabbing only her coat and purse and following him out to the elevator.

Mac insisted, when they arrived back at his apartment, that they change and pour themselves drinks before they did anything else, and once she had changed and padded back out into the living room, she saw that he had poured her a glass of wine and was in the kitchen making something to eat.

"Are you making mac and cheese?" She asked, coming into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around him from behind. "You wonderful, wonderful man."

"It has to bake first, so why don't you start talking?" He suggested, tugging on her hand and leading her to the couch.

"First, you have to promise you won't do anything rash," she wagged a finger at him.

"I cannot make that promise until I hear what you have to say," Will countered.

"Dantana's claiming that Genoa happened mainly because of me," Mac began.

"That doesn't surprise me," Will said, honestly. "You are the EP. I'm not happy about it, but it's not like that's coming out of left field."

"There's more," Mac told him. "He's claiming that I am known for making rash and unpredictable decisions. He says he has proof that I've taken on suicide missions and put my crew in danger, and that I've created a working environment where I expect my producers to do whatever it takes to get the story, even if that story is false." She took a deep breath. "He's also claiming I am unreliable because I suffer from undiagnosed PTSD." She saw Will's fists clench, and she could see all the tell tale signs that Will was angry. Only angry wasn't the right word, she thought. Infuriated was more like it.

"That son of a bitch," Will swore.

"Will," she placed a calming hand on his arm, and he shook it off. She could see that he was trembling with anger.

"That's slander," Will started, his voice raising in pitch. "We could countersue him! Don's right, let's countersue the shit out of him."

"Will," she tried again. "You need to sit down and listen to me."

"Is there _more_?" Will looked horrorstricken.

"I should...I should have told you more about what happened while I was gone." While I was gone, she was still doing it. Softening the language. Making it seem less than what it was. "While I was embedded. You don't know much, and I've done that on purpose. I didn't want you...I didn't want..." She shook her head. "I don't know what I wanted."

She knew, better than anyone, the size of Will's guilt complex. She didn't tell him, first, because it felt like manipulation, and then she didn't tell him because she didn't want to add to the list of burdens he shouldered. Mac was a grown woman who made her own choices. She sent herself away, not him. She could have gone to Atlanta, or back home to London, but instead she flung herself into a warzone.

Maybe Dantana had a point. Maybe she did throw herself into reckless and dangerous situations. But she had done it out of self-preservation. She couldn't stay in New York. She couldn't go to Atlanta or London. She needed bigger things to worry about than Will McAvoy. She needed distractions. But the warzone was a distraction enough. She didn't take unnecessary risks while embedded, and she resented the implication by Dantana's attorneys that she would ever put her crew in danger.

"Mac," Will seemed to deflate, sinking back down onto the couch next to her.

"I was diagnosed with PTSD," she breathed out. "It's really why I came home. I failed my psych eval, and then no one wanted to hire me. No one save Charlie."

"I didn't know that," he murmured.

"I know that," she reached for his hand.

"The nightmares you have," he said suddenly, remembering something. "They aren't as rare as you made them out to be." She shook her head.

"They're not as bad, though, not since I've started sharing my bed with you. Maybe you just tire me into exhaustion," she knocked her shoulder against his, trying for a little levity, but it fell flat. She sobered. "Honestly." Will reached for her, pulling her into his lap, curling himself around her, as if he could protect her from Dantana's accusations, from her past, from any and all things that wanted to hurt her. She twisted the fabric of his sweater between her fingers and tucked her head under his chin.

"Jerry Fucking Dantana," Will muttered. "I'd like to wring his scrawny neck."

"Get in line," Mac replied.

"What happened over there?" His voice was soft, and he began to run his fingers through her hair. She picked up his hand and twined their fingers together.

"That's going to take more than one conversation," she admitted. "And maybe some visual aids." He blanched, his hand reflexively going to her stomach. She laid her free hand over his.

"You were hurt. Charlie said you were hurt, but that you were okay," Will frowned, piecing it together. "You almost weren't."

"No, I almost wasn't," she admitted. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the smell of her.

"What else?" He asked in a choked voice.

"There were some close calls," she said, her voice low. She didn't like to think about how close some of their calls were. "Jim got shot in the ass. He likes to hold that over my head."

"When you and Jim talk about it," Will said. "You don't...I mean, you're very flippant about it. Both of you."

"Self-preservation," she said. "Also, maybe if we don't make a big deal out of it, maybe it won't be such a big deal." Will frowned.

"It _is_ a big deal," he murmured.

"I know," she agreed easily. "Sometimes it feels like it's _too_ big of a deal." They sat in silence, Mac wasn't sure how long it was, before the oven started beeping and she slid off of Will's lap.

"I want to hear about it," he instructed before heaving himself to his feet. "What happened over there...that's a part of you, and I want to know about it." She stood, lifting onto her tiptoes to brush a kiss onto his lips. "You should also be aware that if I see Jerry Dantana, I might not be able to stop myself. I might pop his weasly head right off." She nodded, biting back a smile.

"I promise not to run interference," she solemnly swore.  Will nodded seriously, and then left her alone to go finish dinner. She sighed and tipped her head back against the couch, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt Will kiss the tip of her nose, and she opened her eyes and he reached down a hand to pull her to her feet.

"Come on, eat first, talk second," he suggested. She leaned into him heavily as they walked to the table.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about all of this sooner," Mac said quietly as she sat down. "You should have been made aware you were getting damaged goods."

"Stop that," Will's voice was firm.

"Still," Mac continued. "I kept meaning to tell you, but I just..." She shrugged. "I didn't want to bring up painful subjects just yet. I was enjoying being on cloud nine." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

"It has been pretty great," he grinned at her.

"It's all Jerry Dantana's fault," she grumbled. "Think we should get some sort of voo doo doll? Tamara said she knows someone who can make them."

"Of course she does," Will muttered.

"It's worth a shot," Mac reasoned.

"MacKenzie?"

"Yes?"

"Eat your dinner."

 


	2. Saying nothing, that's enough for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just the best. I hope this chapter lives up to expectations, because, despite always wanting to set the bar low for myself, I seem to have accidentally set it somewhat high. I'm not sure how that happened. Anyway, thanks for reading and for your kind words and encouragement.

"Do you want to hear about things chronologically or in terms of importance?" Mac asked. Dinner had been eaten and put away, she was curled up next to Will on the couch, a blanket draped over the two of them, drinks in each of their hands.

"Let's start with the scar on your stomach," Will skimmed a hand down her arm. She tilted her head back and rested it against his shoulder.

"I was stabbed." Will tensed, and Mac wondered if she should have been less blunt. "It was a religious protest gone awry. It was loud and crowded, and it all happened so fast. One minute I'm interviewing this guy, and the next thing there's a knife in my side. I called for Jim. I think I was in shock."

She remembered being confused, looking from Jim's stricken face to the knife. Her eyes had widened and she had said, _"I think I've been stabbed."_ It would have been funny, if it hadn't been so horrifying. Without thinking, she had yanked the knife out, doing more damage than good, and then had fallen to the ground, Jim diving forward to catch her.

"Things after that are a bit of a blur," she admitted to Will, who had tipped his head forward and buried his nose in her hair. "I think Jim yelled for help, and he picked me up. I remember thinking that I had no idea that Jim was that strong, and I don't remember thinking much else." Except, of course, how much it hurt. But Will had already begun to tremble slightly, and she decided that as much as he wanted to know everything, it was probably better that he didn't know all of the hairy details. "Jim would be able to tell you more, probably. I know they managed to stop the bleeding and stabilize me and then airlifted me to Landstahl. I think my father might have called in some favors, I'm not sure." She knows that Jim called her parents. He called from Islamabad from a satellite phone, his clothes stiff with her blood.

_"It was the hardest phone call I've ever made," he admitted to her later.  Her mother had answered, and Jim blurted out, "Mac's been stabbed. We're in Islamabad and Mac's been stabbed." Mac's mother had been silent on the other end, until Jim heard her call out for her husband, her voice thin and reedy with fear._

"I asked Jim not to call you," Mac admitted. Will's head snapped up and she turned so that she could look at him.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I was...you hadn't answered any of my emails," she shrugged. "And I don't blame you for not reading them, that's not...I just didn't think you'd care, or more accurately, I didn't want to know if you didn't care."

"I've felt a lot of things towards you, MacKenzie, but I've never felt indifferent," he said in a low voice. She framed his face in her hands, and then leaned forward to press a searing kiss to his lips.

"I know that now," she told him. "But I was confused, and in pain, and I told Jim not to call you. I told him to call my parents, and to call Charlie."

"Charlie told me you were attacked," Will said. He remembered Charlie walking into his office, a grim look on his face.

_"You might see a wire report out of Pakistan," Charlie had said, and Will felt himself go cold. Despite himself, he had kept track of MacKenzie's basic whereabouts, and he knew, based on reports she had filed in the past few days, that she was in Pakistan. Something must have happened, and he was in denial about a lot of things, but not so deep in denial to think that he didn't care. "MacKenzie was caught up in a religious protest and was attacked."_

_"Is she okay?" Will forced a calm tone, but Charlie's raised eyebrow told him that he saw through it._

_"From what I've been told, she'll be fine," Charlie answered evenly. "I just thought you should have a heads up." Will reached for a cigarette, and both of them ignored his trembling hands._

"Did Charlie know? That you had been stabbed?" Will asked, and Mac shrugged.

"I don't know, I don't know what Jim told him," she answered honestly. "I woke up a few days later in the hospital. Jim was still there, and my parents were there. I wanted..." She bit her lip, and wondered how honest she should be with him. The truth was that she had desperately wanted Will there, and despite the fact that she had looked Jim in the eyes as she bled all over the place and made him promise not to call Will, she had harbored a dangerous hope that Will would have found out anyway. Found out and hopped on the first plane to Germany to be at her side when she blinked open her eyes. Instead she had found Jim, rumpled but no longer covered in her blood, slumped in the chair next to her bed. He had jerked awake when she cleared her throat.

_"Your parents just went to get something to eat, they'll be back soon, they said that it was okay if I sat here," the words had come tumbling out of Jim's mouth, and Mac gave him a small smile and reached out her hand._

_"Thank you," she said, simply, and Jim had nodded, rubbing his face with his free hand, and looking so damn young and scared in that moment that it made Mac want to weep._

"I wanted you," Mac finally said, pitching forward and burying her face in Will's sweater. "I wanted you there so badly."

"I'm sorry," Will murmured. "I'm so sorry I wasn't. If I had known..." He wasn't sure, though, what he would have done if he had known. He had been so angry at her then. So angry and so bitter. He liked to think that he would have gone to her, gone to Germany, but the truth was that he just didn't know.

"It's not your fault," she reassured, her voice slightly muffled. This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to tell him about any of this. He didn't need to feel guilty about any of it. She leaned back again so she could look at him. "I sent myself away. I did that, Will. That's on me."

"I told you to get the fuck out," he argued.

"And _I_ listened," she shot back. "I made that choice. At the time it was the right decision. Now, I don't know. Maybe I should have stayed. Maybe I should have fought harder. Made you listen, made you understand." Even as she said it, she knew herself well enough to know that she would have never stayed. She didn't know if it was pride or cowardice, or maybe a little bit of both, but he had told her to go, and she went. "And I could have gone to London, like my parents wanted, or even Atlanta, but I didn't." Mac tugged at his sweater and pulled him close enough so that she could brush a kiss against his lips. "Don't you dare feel guilty about this, Will McAvoy."

"Or else you'll what?" He asked, opting for a light tone, a small smile tugging at his lips."I'm not afraid of your empty threats."

"Oh, shut it," she kissed him again. She settled against him and sighed. "Can we shelve this topic of conversation for the time being? I've had about all I can handle of this stroll down memory lane."

"For now," he agreed. He was already making a mental list of things to ask her about. The scar on her elbow, the one on her calf, the various other cuts and bruises and injuries that weren't bad enough to leave a mark.

"Smoke is practically coming out of your ears," Mac frowned at him. "I can see the wheels turning."

"There's so much I don't know," he said, brushing a kiss to the crown of her head. "And you know how much I hate not knowing things."

"I'll tell you, Will, I promise, just a little at a time, okay? It's not the easiest stuff to relive," Mac promised. "Now, I'm full of noodles and wine, and I'd really like to go to bed now." She climbed to her feet and reached a hand down to help him up.

"Let's go to sleep," he said, as Mac folded her hand into his. She looked over at him with a smirk, and bumped her shoulder into his.

"Who said anything about sleep?" She replied, and he smirked back, picking up the pace considerably.

* * *

Considering their topic of conversation earlier in the evening, it shouldn't have surprised Will to be woken a few hours later by Mac's muffled cries. As it was, her moaning jerked him awake, and he sat straight up, reaching out a calming hand out to touch his fiancée's bare shoulder. She recoiled at his touch, a repeated, "no, no, _no"_ falling out of her mouth, curling into herself, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. 

"MacKenzie, you're okay, you're safe, you're in New York," he said, feeling stupid and helpless and just _fuck_. He wanted to reach out to her again, but he was afraid of doing more damage, so he clenched his hands into fists, hanging them uselessly at his side.

Her eyes shot open and she gasped for air, looking up at Will's concerned face hovering above hers.

"Oh God," she muttered, putting a hand over mouth and taking deep breaths to try to calm herself. She lunged forward, and Will caught her, pulling her close as she tucked her head under his neck. Her skin was warm, but she was shivering, and he grabbed the throw from the end of the bed and wrapped it around her. "Oh, I might be sick." She stumbled out of bed, the blanket falling to the ground as she went, and he was a step behind her, as she dropped to her knees and began heaving. She finished and rocked back onto her heels and let out a shuddering sigh.

"You okay?" Will asked, feeling stupid even as he asked it, but Mac gave a small shrug.

"No," she gave a bitter laugh, and he sank down to sit next to her on the cold tile, reaching up on his way down to grab her robe from where it was hanging on the back of the door. She took it gratefully.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"Not really," she mumbled, and he reached down and took her hand. It was cold and shaking, and he brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each of her fingertips. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she brought her free hand up and ran it through his hair.

"I wish..." he started, and then didn't know how to finish it. "I just...this is fucking awful."

"I'm sorry," Mac said softly, and Will snapped his head up.

"You don't have to apologize, don't fucking apologize, not for this, not ever," his voice was firm. She wound her arms around his neck and they stayed like that, tangled up together, for a few moments before Mac spoke up again.

"I need to get up," she said, and Will immediately pulled back.

"Are you going to be sick again?" He asked in concern.

"No," she gave him a smile. "I just really need to brush my teeth." He climbed to his feet, reaching down to help her to hers, and he brushed a hand over her back as she stood at the sink brushing her teeth, heading back towards their bed.

Mac let the robe fall off her shoulders as she got back into bed, sliding her legs between Will's and draping herself over him.

"What do you need? What can I do?" Mac's heart broke at the sound of the concern and desperation in his voice, and she kissed his bare chest.

"Just this," she answered honestly. "This is enough."


	3. And at once I knew I was not magnificent

"There's a special circle in Hell for Jerry Dantana," Sloan said by way of greeting as she pushed into Mac's office without knocking, throwing herself down in a chair.

"Good morning, Sloan," Mac greeted. She had slept through the rest of the night thankfully nightmare free, but she noticed the worried look that seemed to take up residence on Will's face as they got ready for work, and she already missed the light, carefree mornings that had been the norm lately.

"How are you not incredibly furious?" Sloan demanded. "Jerry Dantana's a fucking liar."

"Well, obviously," Mac replied.

"Seriously, Mac, the things he's saying about you are out of line," Sloan was indignant on her behalf, and her overblown, righteous anger was enough to almost make Mac smile.

"Does everyone know about his deposition?" Mac asked, half dreading the answer. No one was really supposed to know, which probably meant everyone did.

"Of course," Sloan shrugged. "Tamara says she knows someone who can make a voo doo doll. We just have to get a lock of his hair, or something."

"She offered that already to me," Mac said.

"And?"

"I said it was worth thinking about," Mac shrugged.

"The stuff he's saying, though," Sloan started, and Mac put up a hand.

"I know, Sloan, but what are we going to do? We knew that he would go after us," Mac was trying to be as pragmatic as possible about the whole situation, which was becoming increasingly harder to do. She hadn't even actually read the deposition yet.

Mac knew Will well enough to know that after they had parted in the newsroom that morning to head to their respective offices, Will stormed immediately to Charlie's office to demand a copy of Dantana's deposition. So talking Will down off a ledge was probably now a part of her agenda for the morning.

Genoa was the gift that just kept on fucking giving.

" _Us_ ," Sloan repeated. "We thought he would go after us, not just _you_."

"He's going after Don too," Mac pointed out.

"For transgressions that occurred after Genoa," Sloan shot back. "Not the same. I mean, I thought, well, if he was going to go after anyone he would go after Charlie and Will. Go big or go home, you know?"

"I guess I'm an easier target," Mac tried to sound unaffected. "Plus, you know, I'm the Executive Producer."

"It _was not your fault_ ," Sloan's voice was fierce. "Genoa. It was not your fault, Mac." Mac crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.

"Sloan," she began.

"It wasn't!" Sloan stared at her defiantly, and Mac held her gaze, neither willing to back down, until finally Mac sighed, dropping her gaze.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," Mac finally said.

"Dantana's full of shit," Sloan told her.

"That seems to be the general consensus," Mac agreed.

"I hope you know," Sloan said, standing, and straightening her dress, "he might think that it's a sound strategy to go after you instead of trying to take all of us on, but he's in for a world of hurt. If wants to get to you, he's going to have to go through every one of us, every single fucking one of us." Mac took a deep, slightly ragged breath.

"You're a whole lot better at this human interaction thing than you give yourself credit for," Mac told Sloan, and Sloan came around the desk and pulled Mac out of her chair and in for a hug.

"Hang in there, buddy," Sloan said softly. Mac dropped back into her chair, and Sloan slipped out the door.

Mac had just managed to get herself composed again when a soft knock came at the door and Jim cracked open her door.

"You got a minute?" He asked.

"Sure." Mac should have realized she wasn't going to get anything done that day.

"So, Will's looking pretty murderous this morning," Jim started. "I'm guessing that's aimed at Dantana?"

"I would imagine," Mac nodded.

"He also asked me if I could come to his office for a little while after the 11 am rundown," Jim ran his hands up and down his thighs, something Mac knew he did when his palms were sweaty. "He said he had a couple of questions for me."

"It's about Islamabad," Mac explained.

"Yeah," it was Jim's turn to nod. "I sort of figured. You guys talked?"

"We did," Mac confirmed. "Or, well, we started to, at least."

"He knows about..." Jim trailed off, and Mac nodded.

"He's been made aware of the PTSD," she said. "We talked about Islamabad, although, to be fair, I don't remember very much of it." But Jim did. He probably remembered _too_ much of it.

"Thank God," Jim said, seriously.

"If you don't want to...I can tell him to back off," Mac offered, but Jim shook his head.

"No, no, he should know," Jim said. He was slumped down in the chair, and he reminded Mac of that first morning when she woke up in Landstuhl, and she had to swallow hard around the sudden lump in her throat. She owed this kid so much. So damn much. Jim was nothing if not loyal, and loyalty was not something Mac took for granted.

Jim cleared his throat and sat up, and ran his hands up and down his thighs one more time before standing.

"Dantana doesn't have anything," Jim told her. "You're not...you're a lot of things, but you aren't reckless. And you're so far from incompetent, and anyone with eyes or two brain cells to rub together is able to see that within forty seconds of being around you. Dantana's an idiot, and so are his lawyers."

"Thanks Jim," she said, and he nodded and left her office. Mac tipped her head back and blinked hard, biting back tears.

"Fuck Dantana," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes and finally getting back to work.

* * *

Will had, in fact, gone straight to Charlie's office. Charlie had been waiting, smart man that he was, and was pouring Will a drink when Will came flying in.

"You know," Charlie said thoughtfully before Will could say anything, "it was foolish of me to think that MacKenzie could manage to put a lid on your reaction to the Dantana problem."

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Will said, accepting the glass that Charlie was offering.

"I imagine you want to, yes," Charlie said, settling into his chair and gesturing for Will to sit down. "But think about how hard it will be on Mac when her newly minted fiancé is sent up the river on a murder charge. Hasn't the poor girl gone through enough already?"

"Exactly!" Will said, slamming his free hand down on the arm of the chair. "She _has_ been through enough already. She doesn't need to be the focus of this damn lawsuit."

"We knew it was a possibility," Charlie countered.

"No," Will shook his head. "You and I sat here with Rebecca the day after Election Day and _no less than four times_ was I reassured that Dantana would most likely target you or I."

"Most likely," Charlie repeated, infuriatingly calm. Will breathed out hard through his nose and took a long drink.

"Fuck that," he said.

"We can't control what Dantana does or says," Charlie said. "All we can do is fight back."

"She doesn't need this," Will repeated.

"She's a lot stronger than most people give her credit for," Charlie replied. "She keeps your ass in line, which is no easy task." Charlie drained his glass. "No, Will, she doesn't need, or deserve, this, but it is what it is. We've got the best possible people fighting on our side, and yes, it's going to get nasty, it already has, but all we can do is get through it."

"He's accusing her of having PTSD," Will argued. "Of knowingly putting her crew in harm's way. He's questioning her abilities! Her mental stability! Fuck him. _Fuck_ him!"

"He's an asshole," Charlie acknowledged.

"I just," Will sighed heavily. "I wish he would have gone after me."

"You and me both, son," Charlie answered. "I thought for sure he'd go after me, but..." Charlie shrugged helplessly.

"I want to see a copy of the deposition," Will said, and Charlie nodded.

"I figured," Charlie slid a folder towards Will. "The transcript is in there. It's not pretty."

"Has Mac seen it? The actual depo?" Will asked, and Charlie shook his head.

"I don't think so, I just gave her the highlights," Charlie answered. Will reached over to take the folder and placed it on his lap, leaning forward to offer his glass for Charlie to refill. "Such as they are."

"We need to crush Dantana like the little piss ant that he is," Will was vehement. He finished his drink, standing up and placing the empty glass on Charlie's desk before heading towards the door.

"We will," Charlie insisted. Will paused by the doorway, and turned back around to face Charlie.

"Thanks for bringing her home," Will said, tucking the folder under his arm. "She told me no one else would hire her after she failed her psych eval."

"Pfft," Charlie waved a hand in the air. "Everyone else is a fucking idiot. Their loss, our gain, right?"

God, Will thought, how true. He wondered if not for that failed evaluation and Charlie's unsinkable faith in MacKenzie, if she would have gotten a job somewhere else, if their paths would have ever crossed again. He would have been a miserable bastard for the rest of his natural days, tormenting EP after EP for the crime of not being MacKenzie Morgan McHale. It was something he didn't want to think about, and of all his regrets in his life, which were many and varied, his biggest was that he wasted so much time to get his head out of his ass.

"Right," Will said.

"We'll get through this, Will," Charlie reassured. "We always do." And Will nodded one last time, pushing open Charlie's door and stepping out into the hallway. 

* * *

When Will slipped into the rundown meeting, he brushed his hand along Mac's arm and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Thankfully, after Jim left her office, she didn't receive any more visitors, and she was able to throw herself into work for a couple of hours and forget, mostly, about Jerry Dantana and the lawsuit. She half expected Will to show up in her office at some point, but he hadn't, and she figured he had holed himself up in his own office with the deposition and a pack of cigarettes.

From the strong smell of smoke she got when he passed her, she guessed she had been correct.

"You okay?" She asked as he sat down in the seat next to hers.

"Fine," he answered. She raised an eyebrow, and his hand darted out to grab hers and gave it a squeeze. "I'm fine, Mac."

"Do some light reading this morning?" Mac questioned innocently.

"I went to see Charlie," he admitted.

"Of course you did," she replied.

"Be prepared, it's the boy scout motto," he shot back.

"And you've always been such a model scout?" She scoffed.

"Well, no," he shrugged. "But it seemed like good practice."

"You were a boy scout, Will?" Gary asked, taking the empty seat on the other side of Will.

"No," he answered immediately.

"I can see it," Maggie added, sitting next to Mac. "I bet you looked adorable in the uniform."

"I was not in the scouts," Will said, frustrated.

"Is that what the cool kids called it? The kids in the know? The scouts?" Mac teased.

"This meeting has gone off the rails," Will muttered, and Mac leaned over and placed a soothing kiss on his cheek.

"They usually do," Mac grinned at him, and he wanted to be upset, but he couldn't be when she was smiling like that.

"I was _not_ a boy scout, for the record," Will said gruffly, but the smile threatening to tug at the corner of his lips was evident and he knew it. "Can we all get back to work?"

"Aye aye, Troop Leader McAvoy," Neal responded, and ducked as Will threw a pen in his direction.

"Okay," Mac said, attempting to take control of the meeting. "Let's get started. What do you have for me?"  Will let his hand drop under the table onto Mac's thigh and she shot him a small smile, her eyes crinkling and it took all of his self control not to lean over and kiss her.

He knew that she was handling the Dantana accusations better than he was, but just the idea of Dantana focusing all of his energy and anger on MacKenzie was making Will crazy. He had read the deposition, read all of the things that Dantana was accusing her of, and Will was just grateful that her PTSD diagnosis seemed to be a well-kept secret, especially from Dantana and his merry band of asshole lawyers.

Will wanted to wring Dantana's neck when Mac had told him he had doctored the footage, but now, _now_ Will wanted to bury Dantana, both figuratively and literally.

Dantana had no idea the shit storm that was coming his way.


	4. Hulled far from the highway aisle

When the meeting wrapped up, Will gestured to Jim to meet him in his office, and Mac gave Jim a sympathetic smile as he shuffled out in front of her.

Will was lighting a cigarette when Jim came in.

"I need to ask you a few questions," Will said, motioning to the empty chair across from him.

"About Islamabad?" Jim clarified.

"Mac tell you we talked about it last night?" Will asked.

"She mentioned that she told you what she remembered about Islamabad," Jim nodded. "She said she doesn't remember much."

"Something which I am incredibly grateful for," Will added. And that was an understatement. Whatever else had happened while Mac was embedded was brutal enough, if she didn't remember most of the stabbing, that was fine. That was more than fine. That was a small miracle. He had a feeling that the other things, the seemingly smaller moments of terror, were what actually haunted her.

"We were covering a religious protest," Jim explained. "It was just us and the cameraman. And a few marines, of course, but our crew was small that day. Things escalated," he breathed out, "very quickly. The marines were trying to move us out of there, but Mac was finishing up an interview, and you know how she gets." Did he ever. The woman's ability to singularly focus was unbelievable. "I don't know exactly what happened, I was a few steps ahead of her when I heard her make a noise. I...I don't think I'll ever forget that sound." Jim shook his head. "Even over all of the noise and the shouting, I heard her...I heard..."

"We don't have to do this," Will filled in quickly, suddenly unsure himself that he wanted to hear the rest.

"No, no, it's fine," Jim leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's not _fine_ , but I can get through this."

"Okay," Will said, "but if you need to stop, you can just stop." Jim nodded.

"I turned around and she had a knife _in_ her. She met my eyes and said, 'I think I've been stabbed,' just like that. Just calm as can be. And then she pulled it out, that was...the surgeon later said that was _really_ bad, her pulling the knife out. He said she was lucky that she didn't bleed out internally after that," Jim had gone pale, and tipped his head forward for a moment. Will let him have as much time as he needed.

Mac had said it was bad, but she never said, or maybe she didn't know, how fucking _bad_ it was. How close she was to death, how close Will was to losing her.

"Her knees sort of buckled after that, and I rushed forward to catch her. I picked her up, she was so light, and one of the marines offered to carry her, but I couldn't...it's Mac, you know? I had to..." Jim shrugged. "We got out of the protest, and to the field hospital. She told me to call her parents and to call Charlie."

"Did you tell Charlie what had happened?" Will asked.

"I told him that Mac had been attacked," Jim said. "I didn't say stabbed...Mac asked me...she asked me not to. She was conscious the whole way to the hospital. She told me," Jim swallowed hard, "to tell you, if she didn't...I was supposed to find you and tell you that she was sorry and that she loved you." Will tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

"Jesus, fuck," he muttered.

"I just kept repeating, 'you're going to be fine, Mac, you're going to be fine. You'll tell him yourself, stop it, stop it,'" Jim gave a short, bitter laugh. "I was practically yelling at her. I made the call to her parents first, in the waiting room. They gave me a sat phone, and told me that I should prepare them, that there was a lot of bleeding." Will thought he might be sick, and with trembling hands, he lit another cigarette, holding out the pack to Jim. Jim declined, sitting up straight in the chair and wrapping his arms around himself. "I just blurted it out, what happened, to her mother. Then her dad got on the phone and he was so calm, he told me to sit tight that he was going to make some phone calls. I sat there for awhile, I don't even know how long, before someone came out and told me that they had managed to stabilize her and they were going to air lift her to Landstahl."

"She said she thought her dad might have pulled some strings," Will said, stubbing out the cigarette.

"I know he did to get me on the flight with her," Jim nodded. "They got to Germany not long after we did, I was still wearing the same clothes, the ones covered in Mac's..." Blood, Will filled in, oh God, Mac's blood. "Anyway, her mother took charge. She got the doctor to get me some clean scrubs to change into, and I think she knew that I was about thirty seconds away from just, fucking falling apart, and she must have been terrified herself, but she was so calm, so..." He shook his head.

"Mac is her mother," Will told him.

"Yeah," Jim muttered. "Her parents and I took turns sitting next to her bed waiting for her to wake up. I thought maybe I should leave, maybe I was stepping on toes, but her dad told me that I was being stupid. Those were his exact words, 'Don't be stupid, James.'" At that Will allowed a small smile. He could practically hear Ted McHales' firm voice telling Jim not to be an idiot. "I was there when she woke up. I don't know if I should..."

"What Jim?"

"I think she was disappointed," Jim replied, honestly. "I think she was disappointed that it was me sitting there. I think she was hoping it would be someone else."

"Me," Will answered, flatly.

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "You."

* * *

Mac had wondered how long before either Jim or Will came to see her after their post-meeting discussion. She thought it was equally likely for either to show up in her office, and she wasn't surprised when it was Will. He didn't knock, just stepped straight in and collapsed into the chair across from her, his head buried in his hands. There was only a moment of hesitation, before Mac stood, coming around to lean on the desk in front of him.

"You okay?" She asked.

"You almost died," he said in a strangled voice.

"I did," she answered.

"I didn't know," he mumbled. "Jim said you told him to find me, if you..." He couldn't bring himself to say the words. The thought alone was awful enough. Mac nodded, understanding, and slipped onto his lap so that he could wrap his arms around her.

"I needed you to know that I loved you, that I never stopped," she explained gently. Will tipped his head forward to rest against Mac's, and she ran a soothing hand down his back.

Will was not enjoying revisiting the painful years while they were apart. He didn't want to think about MacKenzie being in danger, being lonely, scared, and in pain, even though she was home now, safe and loved. She could tell him until she was blue in the face that _she_ had made the choice to go, he still felt the heavy guilt, still wished that he could go back in time and tell Will of six years ago that he was making the biggest mistake of his life letting her walk out the door.

He brushed a thumb along her chin and kissed her, telling himself that it was no good to hold on to those regrets. It didn't matter how long it took for them to get there, the important part was that they _had._ She had his ring on her finger, and he had her in his ear, and that was what mattered.

"I never stopped either," he murmured against her lips. "Never." Mac pulled back and kissed his forehead lightly.

"There's something else we need to talk about," she said, straightening and climbing off his lap.

"The deposition?" Will cringed. The hits just kept on coming. They didn't have time to wallow in pity and regret about the past six years, not with Jerry Dantana on the fucking loose.

"How bad is it?" Mac asked, and he could see her tense as she braced herself.

"It's not good," he sighed.

"Will."

"The PTSD is just a lucky guess," Will explained. "But he has nothing to back that up, so most likely it won't be permissible in court. That's the good news."

"The bad news?" Mac questioned.

"He said he has footage, actual proof, of you putting your crew in danger," Will said. He thought about what Jim had said, how Mac wouldn't leave the religious protest until she had the interview in the can, about how that could be perceived as being reckless instead of dedicated.

"I wouldn't!" Mac argued, her face flushed with anger. "Myself, maybe, but never, I'd never put my crew in danger. There were some situations that were beyond my control, beyond _anyone's_ control, but I would never knowingly put my crew somewhere dangerous. That's bullshit! Will!" She spun her chair around to face the window, breathing heavily. He knew her well enough to know to give her a minute, and sure enough she took a few deep breaths and turned her chair back to face him, her arms folded over her chest. "What else?"

"You mostly know the rest. He's saying that you pushed your producers to get stories, and that there was unspoken encouragement to get the story at whatever cost," Will ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Which is just so beyond horseshit, that I don't even...you're ridiculously ethical, everyone knows that. You're absurdly ethical!"

"Oh come on, absurd?" Mac scoffed. "I value the truth. There's nothing _absurd_ about that."

"What about  _three_ days ago when you made me go back into the restaurant because the waitress forgot to add on the second glass of wine you had to the bill?" Will countered.

"I didn't want to get her in trouble!" Mac shot back. She narrowed her eyes at his smirk, and threw a pen at him.

"Why do I keep getting pens thrown at me today?" He asked, indignantly.

"I imagine it's because you deserve it," Mac replied. She let out a deep sigh and slumped farther into her chair. "Would it have been better if I had been fired?"

"What? No!" Will was on his feet in an instant, the mere suggestion enough to propel him out of his seat.

"He wants me, obviously, probably because I was the one who actually fired him," Mac shrugged. "What more proof than _that_ deposition do you need to know that he would have dropped the lawsuit if I had been fired?"

"Genoa was not your fault, and over my dead body will you take the brunt or the blame," Will's voice was vehement. Mac wisely chose not to bring up the hour or so that he  _had_ actually fired her over Genoa, perfectly content in that moment to let her be the scapegoat. She certainly didn't hold that against him. Emotions were running high that night, everyone was exhausted, no one more so than her, and she had goaded him into it. She knew exactly what buttons to push to get him to his breaking point.  

"I just think it would have solved all our problems," Mac said in a soft voice. "So that ACN's dirty laundry didn't need to be aired in public. I mean, the accusations against me are just the start, right? It's just going to get worse." Will couldn't imagine _how_ , considering Dantana going after Mac was just about his worse-case scenario.

"I don't give a shit," Will replied hotly. "We decided that we were all in this together. Dantana was taking on one of us, he was taking on all of us. You will not resign, you will not be fired. Get that out of your head."

"I'm not going to resign," Mac reassured. "I was just saying."

"Well stop saying," Will put his hands on his hips and fixed a glare in her direction.

"Okay," Mac said easily.

"Okay," Will nodded.

"I should get back to work," Mac gestured to the pile of work on her desk. "And you need to work on the script for tonight."

"Yeah," Will's jaw was still clenched, and she stood, crossing around her desk and threading her arms around his neck. He let his head fall onto her shoulder and she ran a hand through his hair.

"We'll get through it," she said, even though she wasn't so sure about that. Wasn't so sure that Dantana wouldn't win. At least she had this, at least she had Will.

And she was willing to let that be enough.


	5. Jagged vacance, thick with ice

Mac requested a moratorium on tough conversations that night when they dragged their weary bodies into Will's apartment.

"I think we've had about all the emotionally draining conversations we can handle for the day," she said, throwing herself down onto the couch without taking off her coat or shoes. She put one hand over her eyes and let the other dangle off the side of the couch. Will slipped out of his own coat, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Tomorrow's going to be another long day, can we just limit ourselves to conversations about puppies and sunshine and baby sloths?"

"Baby sloths?" Will asked, grinning, and Mac removed the hand from over her eyes and grinned back at him. "Interesting choice of conversation topic."

"They're really cute," she argued. He chuckled moving towards the bedroom.

"You planning on sleeping out here?" He called back to her, and she groaned.

"Maybe, I might decide to just live on this couch and never, ever move again," she replied. With another groan, she heaved herself off the couch, toeing off her shoes and leaving them in the living room, and letting her coat slip off her shoulders onto the floor. Will was generally the neater of the two of them, but she knew he wasn't going to yell at her. Not tonight. The only upside to the whole thing was that Mac figured she had a grace period of at least a few weeks where Will wouldn't really fight with her about much of anything.

Well, to a degree. The earth was still round, so there would be some bickering. But he wasn't going to exclaim, "Jesus, MacKenzie! Your shoes are fucking everywhere! A person could die trying to walk around here!" A sentence she had heard back when they lived together the first go round more times than she cared to remember.

She stripped on the way to the bedroom, too tired to do anything but get out of her work clothes and stumble into bed. Will reached for her immediately, and she sighed as she tucked herself into his arms, letting him mold his body around hers.

"I thought you were going to live on the couch?" He asked in a low, drowsy voice.

"Shut it," she mumbled into his warm skin.

"I love you," he said softly, and she felt it rather than heard it. Felt the rumble of his words under her ear, felt him tighten his hold on her, felt the words fill her up and she nodded, too exhausted to form the words to say back, but hoping he knew how much she loved him too.

* * *

Mac woke up to the sound of Will swearing out in the living room, and she knew that he must have tripped over one of her shoes. She smiled lightly to herself as she heard him grumble to himself.

"Those shoes are lethal," he muttered as he slid back under the covers and she contemplated rolling over and falling back asleep, but she smelled coffee. Will was sipping a mug of coffee, and she blinked open her eyes to look at him.

"There better be a cup for me," she said, and he grinned, reaching over towards the nightstand and holding out a mug of coffee for her.

"Please, I know better than to come back here with coffee for just me," he scoffed. "That's grounds for a break-up." She grinned back, sliding up into a seated position.

"That's grounds for a homicide," she corrected, and he laughed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a good morning kiss.

"Think we can play hooky today?" He slipped an arm around her shoulder, and she settled into his side and let out a long sigh.

"No," she huffed. "I have to meet with Rebecca today." He cringed, trailing his fingers down her bare arm.

"Do you want me there?" He asked. "As your lawyer? As moral support? As whatever?"

"That's sweet," Mac smiled. "But I think I can handle Rebecca on my own." 

"Come find me after," Will instructed. "Maybe we can get lunch?"

"I'd like that," she nodded. "I guess I should go get in the shower. Face the day and all that."

"We could shower together," he suggested. "It'd save time and water."

"You're so green," she mused with a smirk.

"We all have to do our part, Mac," Will replied solemnly, and then his face broke into a grin and he carefully took the mug of coffee out of her hands and placed both on the nightstand, turning and pinning her to the bed. 

She had a feeling they were going to be late, and she couldn't care less.

* * *

"You're a little late today," Charlie smirked when Will stepped into his office. Charlie folded the newspaper he had been reading and placed it in his lap. Will couldn't help his own smirk as he dropped his briefcase on the floor and collapsed into the chair. "Traffic bad?"

"Terrible," Will deadpanned.

"I'm glad you're taking good care of our girl," Charlie's smirk widened, and Will just shook his head.

"Can I help you with something? Or did you just come here to give me a hard time?"

"I did need to talk to you, but imagine my surprise when I found your office empty," Charlie leaned back in his seat. "So I decided that, yes, in addition to what I needed to see you about, I could also give you a hard time." Will rolled his eyes. "Mac's meeting with Rebecca today, I hear."

"Yeah," Will's smile slid off his face.

"Rebecca's the best," Charlie reminded Will. "But I'm here to give you a heads up."

"Oh God, what now?" Will asked.

"Page Six has some dirt, courtesy of our good friend Mr. Dantana," Charlie said.

"Mac?" Will paled. "What are they saying about Mac?"

"It's actually not about her," Charlie explained.

"Oh thank God," Will breathed.

"There are two stories, one about Sloan punching the bastard with the pictures," Charlie grinned. "That girl's got spunk."

"That story looks worse for the asshole she punched than Sloan," Will pointed out. Charlie nodded. "The second?"

"A story about Jim on the tour bus for _Sex in the City_?" Charlie looked confused. "And something about Maggie? And YouTube? What the hell goes on down here?" Will rolled his eyes.

"You don't want to know," Will assured Charlie.

"They're trying to paint us as incompetent buffoons," Charlie said.

"We are," Will countered. "In our personal lives."

"What do our personal lives have to do with being able to do the news?" Charlie exclaimed. "Think Cronkite always had his shit together all the time?"

"Yes, actually I do," Will told him. "We knew this stuff would get out."

"Well, warn Sloan, and Maggie and Jim for me, would you?" Charlie clapped his hands on his knees and stood. " _Sex and the City_ for Christ's sake. The things these kids do these days to get laid." Will laughed and Charlie paused. "And let me know how it goes with Mac and Rebecca. If I can do anything..." The offer hung in the air, and Will nodded in appreciation.

"Will do, Boss," he said, and Charlie gave him a small salute before closing the door behind him.

* * *

 Will was distracted the rest of the morning; his mind was on Mac and Rebecca. It was a little after one when he heard his office door open and he glanced up to see his fiancée step in, her eyes shiny with unshed tears and he was on his feet in an instant, opening up his arms and letting her fall into them.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I don't know why I'm crying. Not really. I kept it together until just now. I just..."

"What happened?" He asked gently. She took a deep, shuddering sigh.

"It's just reliving things I'd rather not," she answered, and he tightened his hold on her.

"Islamabad?"  He asked, and felt her shrug.

"Islamabad isn't really what keeps me up at night," she confessed.

"I had a feeling," Will muttered, running a hand up and down her back.

"I guess the moratorium is lifted," she sighed.

"Yeah," he wasn't looking forward to hearing more about her time in the warzone any more than she was looking forward to telling him about it. There was a lot of guilt, heavy and oppressive, when he thought about the reasons she was there, the emails he never read, the things he said to make her run, as fast and far as she could. "We can leave. I can have Elliott fill in for me tonight. Let's get out of here."

"Will," she argued halfheartedly.

"No, we need to...we need to talk, no distractions. Charlie will understand," he insisted. He brushed a kiss to her forehead. "Go fill in Don and Jim. I'll handle everyone else. We're out of here in twenty minutes, MacKenzie. Twenty minutes." He gave her another kiss, this one on her mouth, fierce and somewhat desperate. She squared her shoulders and slipped out of the office, and Will set about getting them covered for the night.

He had everything worked out when Mac appeared exactly twenty minutes later, her coat on and her bag in her hand.

"Leave the bag," Will instructed, and she didn't argue. Dropped the bag next to his and reached out her hand for him to take.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," she said, and it was his turn to listen and not argue.

* * *

 "Tell me," Will said softly, when they got back to the apartment and were curled up on the couch.

Mac did. She told him about the nights when they would lay awake, too afraid to sleep. She told him about the soldiers she met. About the ones who didn't make it home, and how she still saw their faces when she closed her eyes sometimes, so young and so terrified. She told him about the military funerals she attended when she made it back stateside, about their young widows and the small children they left behind, and how she would feel so guilty, because she _did_ make it home.

She showed him the scars from the shrapnel and about what it felt like to be thrown to the ground and have a marine cover her body with his, and know that he might die to save her, and wonder whether she was worth that kind of sacrifice.

Will let her talk, let the words pour out of her mouth, her hand wrapped tightly in his. Let her tell him about the hot nights and even hotter days, about the long, terrifying rides in the back of armored vehicles, and the fear of hitting an IED every time they hit another bump in the road.

She told him about the good things too. The times they sat around with the marines laughing, smoking cigarettes, talking about the first thing they would do when they arrived back home.

"I said I would take the longest, hottest bath in the record of mankind," she told him with a nostalgic smile. "I dreamt of that bath. God I was filthy. Filthy and sweaty and disgusting."

She told him about the people they met, and how her heart would break on a near daily basis thinking about how she could leave at any time, get on a plane and be back at her safe house, with her safe life, and how they couldn't, because this was their home, their life. And the unfairness of that.

And when she had used up all her words, she covered her face with her hands and wept. It broke Will's heart, and he wished he could do more for her, but he just held her, dropping kisses into her hair and whispering nonsensical words of comfort.

"I'm sorry," she kept repeating, and he shushed her.

"I'm just grateful you made it home," he repeated over and over again. "Fuck, I'm just so grateful you made it home."

When she had calmed down, they sat, wrapped up in each other, their thoughts each thousands of miles away, both too overwhelmed to do anything but just sit, unmoving, and unspeaking for a long time.


	6. And I could see for miles, miles, miles

"I don't think we can skip work two days in a row," Mac sighed, curling her body around Will's.

They had stumbled to bed the night before after Mac had finally finished talking and had made love with a quiet desperation, Will breathing into her skin that he loved her, God did he love her. After, he gathered her tightly in his arms and she had cried herself to sleep.

It was not a night that Will would willingly repeat. The sound of her gentle sobs had broken his heart, and though she had drifted off, it took a long time for him to finally fall asleep. He had desperately wanted a cigarette, but he didn't dare leave the bed, or let go of MacKenzie.

"We will do whatever you need," Will said, his voice firm. "If that means taking off two days, or two weeks, or fuck, I don't know, two months, we will do it." He ran a hand down her bare back, and she tipped her head up to kiss him.

"I think two months is excessive," she answered seriously. "Considering I get itchy being away for more than two hours usually."

"Usually," Will conceded. "But with everything that's going on, no one would blame you for wanting to hide away for a little while. Hell, I want to hide away for a little while."

"As nice as that sounds," Mac said. "We can't hide forever."

"Sure we can," Will argued. "We have more than enough money to never have to work again. We could become ex-pats. Move to Paris, drink lots of wine and eat fucking bagettes until the cows come home." She giggled, burying her face in his chest, and he tangled his hand in her hair.

"We'd be so bored," she scoffed. "Can you imagine?" She pressed a kiss to his chest and rolled over to look at the clock and groaned. "We really need to get up and get to the office. We can't be late two days in a row." Will's response was to hold onto her more tightly and she hit at his arm. "I'm serious, Will. We've got to get up." He let go of her with a sigh, and she slipped from the bed and into the bathroom.

"I still think we should consider the fleeing the country route," Will called to her, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and making himself stand. "I just think it's not the worst idea in the world. We could do London instead, wouldn't you like to be closer to your parents?" Mac stuck her head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and an incredulous look on her face.

"And how fast do you think it would be before my mother and I killed one another?" Mac asked. "I love the woman, but she drives me crazy." Will wisely refrained from pointing out that MacKenzie was a lot like her mother. She had Helene McHale's looks, temperament, and stubbornness, combined with Ted McHale's determination, intelligence, and staunch moral code. It was a lethal combination. Mac's brother Freddy was more easy going than his sister or mother, taking after his father more in personality, but all the McHales shared a fierce intellect and a penchant for fiery debates.

Will might have kept his mouth shut, but from the look his fiancée shot him, he hadn't done a good job of schooling his features into a neutral position.

"I'm not _that_ much like my mother," Mac argued. When Will still didn't say anything, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Shut up, Will."

"I didn't say anything!" He cried.

"You were _thinking_ it," she accused, turning on her heel and heading back into the bathroom.

"What about if we moved to Germany? I love schnitzel," Will said, grabbing clothes and heading into the bathroom behind her, trailing his hand over her back as he passed.

"And pretzels," Mac said fondly.

"And beer," he added.

"Still no," she told him.

"What about Japan?"

"Neither of us speaks Japanese," she pointed out.

"You speak Russian," he countered.

"Do you really want to live in Russia?" She asked.

"Not particularly," he conceded. She turned to face him, sliding her arms around his neck and standing on her toes to give him a kiss.

"I appreciate the thought, but we're far too much of workaholics to give it all up and live a life of leisure in some small European town," she said. "So we better get our asses into work." Will sighed, giving her one last kiss before continuing to get ready.

* * *

 

It was Will's turn to meet with Rebecca that morning, and she was waiting for him when he got into his office. 

"Good morning," she greeted from where she was already seated behind his desk. "Charlie warned me you might be late, but here you are, right on time."

"Right on time," he muttered.

"I expect you and Mac had some things to talk about last night, which was why you let Elliott handle the show," Rebecca's voice was uncharacteristically sympathetic and Will sighed, shrugging of his coat and nodding. Rebecca stood, letting Will have his chair, and settled herself across from him.

"I _hate_ that he's going after her," Will said.

"I imagine you do," Rebecca agreed. "And it's total bullshit. He thinks she's easier to get at, easier to rattle, than you or Charlie. He also, I think correctly, surmised that you would do anything to keep her from being dragged through this. If you were going to settle to protect someone, you would do so for MacKenzie without hesitation or reservation." Will reached for his pack of cigarettes, before remembering his promise to Mac to try to quit and tossed the pack away in frustration.

"If I didn't think the whole team, lead by Mac, would kill me, I'd consider quitting," he admitted. "She doesn't deserve this. She already feels guilty enough about the whole thing. She thinks it's all her fault, but the truth was that she held off for a lot longer than any other EP would have knowing what she thought she knew. And she caught the video. That fucking shot clock! Without her, who knows how long it would have taken us to retract the report, and who to blame for it."

"She doesn't see it that way," Rebecca added, and Will shook his head.

"No, she doesn't. She doesn't see it as intuitional failure either, she just sees it as _her_ failure," he sighed. "The stories about Jim going off to New Hampshire, or Sloan punching that asshole, those stories, they're harmless really. Embarrassing in the short run, but no real damage done. But accusing MacKenzie of being mentally unstable? Of being reckless? Or being inept? That kind of shit stays, even if it's proven to be false, it fucking stays." He had held it together for the most part in front of Mac, but he was trembling with anger, and he couldn't stop himself from picking up a paperweight that had been sitting on his desk and heaving it at the wall. It made a huge noise and fell to the ground, and Rebecca, to her credit, didn't even flinch.

Unsurprisingly, a few minutes later, a soft knock came at the door and Mac stepped in.

"Everything okay in here?" She asked, crossing her arms and looking hard at Will.

"Fine," he dismissed.

"Try to refrain from throwing heavy objects at the walls," Mac instructed. "It frightens the interns." With that, she shot Will one more look and slipped out of his office.

"I get that you're angry, and you have every right to be," Rebecca said once the door had shut behind Mac. "But you need to channel that anger into something useful. Instead of just throwing shit at the walls. Put your allegedly brilliant legal mind to work."

"I thought that's what we were paying you the big bucks for," Will smirked.

"I have a tentative solution," Rebecca hedged. "It actually was thanks to Don."

"The countersuits?" Will asked. "Seriously?"

"There's a rumor that Stomtonovich is going to file a defamation suit," Rebecca said.

"Oh Christ, just what we need," Will tipped his head back and let out a long sigh. Just when he figured things could not possibly get any worse, they got worse.

"No, Will, listen," Will looked up and Rebecca was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "He's not suing ACN. He's suing Dantana."

* * *

 

Will didn't get a chance to see Mac until the first rundown meeting, but she was surprised to see him practically bouncing, a grin on his face.

"I gather you've calmed down," Mac said as he sat down next to her. "Not throwing anything else at the walls?"

"Oh, I'm actually having a _great_ morning," Will insisted, and he leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek. It was rare that they showed any sort of affection in front of the staff, and it caught Mac off guard.

"You are?" She asked, confused.

"Do you have a minute after the rundown?" He asked.

"Sure," she answered. "But..."

"After the rundown, we'll talk," he assured, and Mac was stopped from saying anything else by the rest of the team filing in.

She was distracted for most of the meeting, Will could tell, and as soon as she wrapped up the meeting, she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to her office.

"Spill," she insisted.

"Dantana's being sued," Will said.

"By us?" Will shook his head.

"By Stomtonovich," he replied. Mac's eyes widened.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "This is good. This is really good." Will's worry was still Dantana's accusations about Mac getting out and taking hold. He knew it drove Mac crazy, but he cared what they wrote about him, but mostly he cared what they wrote about _her_.

"Couldn't Dantana also blame _me_ in that lawsuit? If his argument is that I pushed him into doctoring the footage, wouldn't he use that as his defense against Stomtonovich too?" Mac asked, frowning slightly.

"He could try, but it's a hard sell," Will explained. "The bottom line is that Dantana, whether he felt pressure from you or not, was the one who doctored the footage. He doesn't have anything written or verbal where you told him to do whatever it took to get the interview. He doesn't have _anything_ , period. And if he's fighting Stomtonovich, he's going to have to allocate legal and financial resources to that lawsuit. It's good, sweetheart, I promise you, this is good news." Mac nodded.

"Okay," she gave him a small smile. Will stood, coming around the side of her desk and placing both hands on her arms.

"I know we've been focused on your time embedded and dealing with that, so maybe I haven't been too clear on this, but Dantana has no idea, none, what he's going up against," Will was firm, his voice low and serious. "He decided to go after you, and that's unacceptable. Win or lose this lawsuit, I'm going to use all of my considerable resources to crush Jerry fucking Dantana like a bug."

"Will," Mac tried, and Will shook his head. "You don't..."

"I do," Will cut her off. "And I'm not telling you that so you can argue with me, or try to talk me out of it. I'm telling you so that you know." He titled forward, kissing her hard, and then squeezed her arm and walked out the door.


	7. 3rd and Lake it burnt away, the hallway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter you guys. I must have rewritten it at least twice, and I almost rewrote it again, and then I decided, screw it, I'd post it and see what you thought instead of worrying about it. If it's awful, I'll rewrite it. Just. Ugh. I need a beer now.

"So I'm a hero," Sloan said, walking into Will's office without knocking.

"For punching that asshole?" He asked, looking up from what he was working on.

"Yes," she nodded as she sat down across from him. "So, as a hero, I think I should punch out Dantana."

"I think that's a poor plan," Will said, a grin tugging at his lips. Sloan shook her head.

"That's where I think you're wrong," she insisted. "I think it's a _great_ plan. If anyone deserves to be punched, it's Dantana, and that's my thing now. I'm the economist who punches out douchebags. It's my superpower." Will snorted, but continued to shake his head.

"I have other plans for Mr. Dantana," he told her. "Although I will admit it would feel really good to punch him square in the fucking face." Sloan leaned forward, an insatiably curious look on her face.

"I _knew_ you'd have a plan!" She looked delighted at the thought of Will's diabolical mind being put to work. "What is it?"

"It's still in the planning stages," he admitted. "But I've hired a private detective. Dantana thinks it's fun to dig up dirt on us? Well, we're going to dig up so much dirt we're going to fucking bury him in it."

"What else? That's not enough, we need to _ruin_ him," she told him, her eyes flashing with anger. Will had never seen this side of Sloan before, and it shocked him a little.

"It's a start," Will pointed out. "I know you want him to pay, I do too, you have _no_ idea. Trust me, I'm working on it." Sloan nodded.

"Okay, I trust you," she said.

"Is that all you came in here for?" Will asked. "To tell me you want to punch Dantana in the face?"

"No, I came in..." Sloan shifted in her seat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I'm not very good at this, but...well, how's Mac doing? I know if I asked her she'd tell me that she was fine, and she's _not_ fine, or at least, I don't think she could be totally fine. No one would be totally fine in her situation, but I just...I'm worried about her. Dantana's thrown her under the bus and that's just...that's so unfair."

"She's okay, Sloan," Will said, his voice gentle. "She's hanging in there."

"She has nightmares," Sloan said suddenly. "I'm sure you know about those." Will's eyes widened.

"I'm surprised _you_ know about those," he replied. Sloan gave a small shrug.

"We got drunk one night and I stayed at her apartment, it was easier than trying to get home considering the shape we were both in, and she had a pretty terrible nightmare that night," Sloan explained. Will could see her eyes cloud over thinking about it, and he knew firsthand how terrifying it was to wake up to MacKenzie screaming in the middle of the night, her arms thrashing and her face frozen in horror.

The nightmares were more frequent lately, a byproduct of all the memories their conversations and Dantana's lawsuit were drudging up, and Will was now unfortunately accustomed to pulling her to him, whispering nonsensical, disjointed words of comfort. _I've got you. I'm here. It's okay. You're okay._ Over and over until the words were almost meaningless. Sometimes Mac woke, and other times she just quieted down, her whimpers softening and her face finally going slack.

"It was awful," Sloan said more to herself than to Will. "She wouldn't wake up, she just...she wouldn't wake up. She told me about Islamabad the next morning, showed me the scar, said sometimes a story would hit a little close to home. I told her that she could always call me, if she needed to, no matter what time. I told her I didn't care if she woke me up." Will couldn't help it, he stood and crossed over to where Sloan sat and pulled her out the chair and into his arms. He was grateful for her, grateful that MacKenzie had a friend like her. He was grateful for Jim too, and Don, for Charlie and all those people who loved Mac and stood by her, even when he hadn't, _especially_ when he hadn't.

"She's okay, Sloan," Will reassured her, and he felt Sloan nod against his chest.

"You better take good care of her," Sloan said, pointing a finger into his chest. "She's pretty good at taking care of herself, but she shouldn't _have_ to all the time."

"I know," Will agreed. "I will. I'm trying, I swear."

"Okay," Sloan pulled back, and straightened her skirt out. "Let me know if I can help in any way with Mission Destroy Jerry." Will quirked an eyebrow at that, and Sloan shrugged. "Okay, maybe the name needs a little work. But you know what I mean. Let me know what I can do. I'm a hero, you know."

"Don't punch anyone," he instructed.

"I make no promises," Sloan said, shooting him a grin and slipping out the door.

Will was alone for about two minutes when a sharp knock came at his door and Rebecca let herself in.

"I'm meeting with Mr. Dantana and his attorneys today," she announced. "He requested the meeting. I think Stomtonovich's lawsuit has him spooked."

"He should be spooked," Will muttered.

"He'll be more upset when I let him know that many members of the ACN staff, including yourself and MacKenzie, are bringing countersuits against him," Rebecca said.

"We are?" Will smirked.

"You are," Rebecca nodded. "I'm very good at my job, Will. You should stop worrying so much." Will shrugged.

"I trust you," he assured her.

"Yeah? So why'd you hire a private detective?" She asked, and when she saw Will's look of surprise, she added, "I know _everything_ Will. You really should keep that in mind."

"So?" Will asked. "He's going to pay. Whether this lawsuit gets settled quietly or not, he's going to pay. Fuck him. Mac was _finally_ starting to look like something other than an extra from _The Walking Dead_ when he decided to put her in his crosshairs. Fuck him so hard."

"I'm making sure it goes away as quickly as possible," she promised. "But if I were you? And I was serious about making him hurt personally? I would have someone start to go through his college days with a fine tooth comb."

"Is there something you know that I don't?" Will asked.

"There are many things that I know that you don't," Rebecca shot back. "But for the record, you aren't the first one to rifle through our pal Jerry's closet. And let's just say there are a _lot_ of skeletons." She slid a folder on Will's desk. "I'll let you know how the meeting with Dantana goes."

"Good luck," Will called out as she moved towards the door.

"Oh, I don't need luck," Rebecca said, throwing open the door and striding through the newsroom.

* * *

Mac had not been having quite as good of a day as her fiancé.

There were problems with the soundboard, which she was assured by at least four different people would be fixed by the time the show came around. There was a problem with a guest being stuck in an airport somewhere in Wisconsin, she hadn't cared about the details, she only knew that she had to scramble now to fill that gap, and on top of everything she had a horrible headache, possibly from not sleeping very well lately.

Will helped. Being able to lean on him, come home to him, was possibly the only thing holding her together at the moment. But the ring on her finger wasn't a magic solution to all of her problems. It certainly didn't stop the nightmares that came with a startling frequency lately, although Will's soft, soothing words meant that instead of sitting awake for the rest of the night, she at least fell back into a fitful sleep.

She was exhausted. Completely, totally exhausted, and it was only going to get worse. The accusations against her were not to be taken lightly, and she had no fucking idea how Dantana managed to make such a lucky guess. It was clear that he didn't have any real evidence, though there was plenty of it. There were her prescriptions, her therapy appointments, the failed psych eval that brought her and Jim home. Dantana just had to dig a little further and he'd hit pay dirt.

"Fuck," she said, trying to push the lawsuit out of her mind and focus on the pile of work that was sitting in front of her. She rubbed her temples, and tried to focus. It wasn't helping. She could feel her anxiety mounting, her hands start to tremble, her palms start to slick. "Fuck," she repeated.

Mac felt dizzy and flushed, and she pushed back from her desk. She felt her lungs start to tighten.

It would have been better, _easier_ , for everyone if she would have just stayed fired. As soon as she thought it, she knew it wasn't true. She wouldn't have been able to find a job anywhere else; maybe London, if her father pulled the right strings, but if she had thought she was toxic after returning home from being embedded, it was nothing compared to how she would have been after taking the fall for Genoa.

Then there was her team. Her and Will's team. The one that she was so proud of, so incredibly fucking proud of. She knew they could do it without her; she had faith in their abilities, but she didn't want to leave them, leave the little news family they had created.

And then there was Will.

Oh God, she couldn't breathe. The panic was rising, and she put her head between her legs and tried to take deep breaths.

Dantana's accusations were going to take root. That kind of thing always did. And the problem was that part of it was _true_. Not the part about her being incompetent as an EP. She was damn good at her job, and Dantana was full of shit. The majority of his defense was bullshit, but he had somehow stumbled onto a hidden truth that MacKenzie desperately wanted to stay hidden.

Not many people knew about her PTSD diagnosis. Her doctor. Will. Jim. Charlie. Her parents. The list was short for a reason. She suspected Sloan knew, and she hadn't told her anything other than she had nightmares about that time occasionally, but Sloan was damn smart, she hadn't pushed Mac, just promised that MacKenzie could call her any time she needed to, no matter what, and Mac had been more grateful for that offer than she had been able to express. It had come at a low point for Mac. Will was doing whatever it was that he was doing with Nina Howard, which had hurt her more than she had ever let on.

Mac sucked in air. Shit. Shit. Shit. She needed to get to her purse, get to the pill container where she kept her medication. Will had been surprised at all the different things prescribed to her. Anti-anxiety pills. Pills to help her sleep.

"I didn't know," he had said, his voice low and pained.

Her purse was all the way across her office. She had flung it on her chair with her coat when she first got in, waylaid from her normal routine by Jim bursting in to tell her about the stranded guest. She stood on shaky legs and grabbed her purse, dropping back into her chair and telling herself to just breathe. In and out. In and out. Her hands trembled as she opened a bottle of water.

"Mac?" She hadn't even heard her door open, but suddenly Will was in front of her, concern etched on his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she choked out, and from the unimpressed look he gave her, she didn't think he was quite buying it.

"What can I do?" He sounded helpless, reaching out and taking one of her clammy hands.

"It's fine, I took something, it should kick in," she ran a hand through her hair. He looked like he had about a thousand questions on his tongue, but he just swallowed hard and nodded. They sat in silence, Will gripping her hand, until finally the pressure on her chest began to ease and she finally took an easy breath. She still felt shaky, but she opened her eyes and gave Will a small smile.

"What happened?" He asked in a quiet voice, and she shrugged a little.

"It's just, oh God, nothing, everything," she shrugged, and gave a slightly watery laugh. "Did you need something? Or do you just have really good timing? Or really bad timing? It depends on how you look at it, I guess."

"Rebecca stopped by my office this morning," Will explained, feeling slightly shaky himself, and perching himself on the edge of Mac's desk, unwilling, or maybe unable, to let go of her hand. "She's meeting with Dantana today, and then she wants to meet with us to go over our countersuits."

"We're countersuing Dantana?"

"Turns out Don was onto something," Will couldn't help but grin.

"He's going to be unbearable now," she groaned.

"That's Sloan's problem, really," Will pointed out. He sobered up a little and gave her hand a squeeze. "Rebecca's good at her job, Mac. She told me not to worry."

"Right, don't worry," Mac scoffed. "Easy as pie."

"It's going to be okay," he said, and she looked up at him in surprise. "It is, Mac. Rebecca knows what she's doing. She's going to eviscerate him in court. If it even gets that far."

"He filed the suit," Mac pointed out. "I think he plans on taking this as far as it will go. And he's still basically un-hirable, so he's got nothing left to lose. I don't think he's going to drop it."

"He could be persuaded," Will said cryptically, and Mac's eyes narrowed.

"What did you do?" She asked.

"Why do you assume I did something?" He asked.

"What did you do?" She repeated.

"Rebecca gave me this," Will reached behind him, grabbing the folder he had abandoned on her desk when he had walked in to find her in the midst of a panic attack. He handed it to Mac, who opened it up and gave a little gasp.

"How did she find this?" Mac asked, flipping through the pages.

"She's good," Will reminded her.

"Will, if this is true," she breathed, "it puts into question  _his_ credibility. He's obviously lied before, so what would stop him from lying now?" She raised her eyes to meet Will's, and he nodded. "Will!"

"I know," Will said, shaking his head in disbelief at their good fortune. "I _know_."

"He never graduated," Mac said. "Seriously, _seriously_? He never graduated! He's been lying about his diploma."

"He got heavily into the anti-war scene and dropped out," Will said. "Been arrested twice, never convicted. This suggests a history of being anti-establishment, anti-government, and insult to injury, he's clearly a fucking liar."

"Will!" Mac said again, and this time she smiled, standing and throwing herself forward into his arms.

"He covered his tracks pretty well, but apparently not well enough," Will said, and Mac kissed him hard.

"This is the best fucking news I've heard in a while," she told him happily.

"Not that I still love you? This news tops _that_?" Will teased, and she kissed him again.

"Shut up," she hummed against his lips. She pulled back, and her eyes were bright. "We might actually _win_ this, Will."

"Rebecca's going to nail him, sweetheart, and then we're going to make sure he never works in the news business ever again," Will promised. "Plus, you know, if the Department of Defense decides to actually move forward with their suit, he might have bigger things to worry about than being unemployed."

"God," Mac sighed. "I can't wait until it's all over."

"You and me both," Will muttered, pulling her into his arms and holding her there. "You and me both."


	8. Was where we learned to celebrate

Of all the things Will hated, of which there were plenty, he never hated anything as much as he hated feeling useless. Especially where MacKenzie was concerned.

After he left her office, feeling better since the news about Dantana's degree or lack thereof had lifted her sagging spirits, he immediately called the private detective he had called and directed him towards Dantana's college exploits. And then he could do nothing but wait. Wait for Rebecca to get back, wait for his guy to call him back, wait, wait, wait.

It was driving him crazy. Honestly, _seriously_ , crazy.

He tried to write his script, but he was too distracted. He was desperate for a cigarette, but he had promised MacKenzie, and the last thing he wanted to do was pile more onto her already towering plate.

He heard a commotion out in the newsroom, and he slid back from his desk and went to see what it was all about.

It was Charlie, calling everyone into the center of the room, his face unreadable. Will glanced around for his fiancée, and didn't see her right away. Her office looked dark, and he frowned.

"Where's Mac?" He asked Maggie. Maggie shrugged.

"I haven't really seen her all morning," she answered.

"Could I have everyone's attention?" Charlie shouted. "Is everyone here? Where's MacKenzie? She needs to be here for this." Where was MacKenzie, Will thought. When he had left her in her office, she had an actual, real smile on her face, a rarity lately. She had assured him she was going to do some work and she'd see him at the rundown meeting. That had been a few hours ago.

"Does anyone know where she is?" Will asked.

"Uh, she stepped out," Jim spoke up.

"When will she be back?" Charlie asked, but what Will wanted to know was _where_ had she gone? And why hadn't she said anything to him? Since they had gotten engaged, they rarely traveled too far from each other's side, a byproduct of working and living together. It wasn't unusual for him to not see her for a couple of hours. They were not, despite Sloan's constant teasing, joined at the hip, but it _was_ unusual for her to leave the office and not give him a heads up.

It made Will uneasy, for a reason that he couldn't quite articulate. It probably had to do with how he had found her in her office earlier, and less to do with how he had left her.

"I'm not sure," Jim ran a hand through his hair and looked incredibly uncomfortable. Just as Will turned to grill Jim further, the woman in question waltzed off the elevators and into the newsroom.

She always did have impeccable timing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's going on?" She asked, shrugging off her coat and coming to stand next to Will.

"Where were you?" He ignored her question.

"I had some errands to run," she said, and he knew her well enough to know that she was being intentionally vague. Will gave her a look to convey that wasn't nearly enough information, she reached out to squeeze his arm and gave him a small smile. "I'll tell you all about it, later, okay?"

"Now that we're all here," Charlie clapped his hands together. "It's been a rough couple of months, and you have all hung in there admirably. I know there was a lot of uncertainty and we still have a long way to go, but I'm pleased to tell you as of this afternoon, Jerry Dantana has dropped his wrongful termination lawsuit against AWM." There was a hushed silence, almost as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and then came whoosing back in with Don's utterance of,

"Holy shit."

There was a beat, and then the newsroom exploded.

Without turning, Will reached for Mac, pulling her into him and enfolding her in his arms. He could feel her trembling, and he dropped his head and buried his face in her hair. He felt hands clapping him on his back happily, but his world had narrowed to just him and the woman he held in his arms, his grip just shy of painfully tight. Mac took a shuddering breath, and then tipped her head up, meeting Will's eye and giving him a watery smile.

"I can't believe it," she breathed, and he dipped his head down to kiss her. They had a pretty strict set of rules about PDAs in the office, but he felt an exception could surely be made in this instance.

Without letting go, Mac moved to tuck herself in his side, as Charlie handed out glasses of champagne that his assistant Millie had brought down.

Maggie swooped in to hug Mac, and they finally parted, Mac moving into Maggie's arms and Will reaching out to hug Charlie, taking a couple of glasses of champagne and grinning widely.

Mac went straight into Jim's waiting arms, and Will thought the moment felt incredibly similar to when they announced their engagement, right down to the exhaustion that had settled on Mac's face and body and an ebullient Charlie passing around alcohol and encouraging the staff to celebrate, despite the fact that they still had a show to put on.

"I can't believe it," Tess kept repeating with a dazed look on her face. Neal couldn't stop laughing, edged with slight hysteria, and Jim kept shaking his head in disbelief.

"This couldn't have happened _before_ the whole world knew I went on a _Sex and the City_ tour?" Jim complained, but there was a relieved smile on his face.

Mac was passed back to Will, and she wrapped her arm around his middle and knocked her head into his shoulder.

"Thank God," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"Where's Rebecca?" Will asked Charlie. "Where's our conquering hero?"

"She'll be here," Charlie couldn't stop grinning, and bounced back onto his heels.

"We all owe her a drink," Will said.

"We owe her a hell of a lot more than that," came Mac's swift reply. Will tightened his grip on her shoulders and caught sight of Rebecca walking in with Leona just as the newsroom burst into applause. Rebecca took it as her due, accepted a glass of champagne from Tamara, and moved through the happy crowd until she was in front of Will, Mac, and Charlie.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice dry. Don sidled over, clapping a hand onto Rebecca's shoulder.

"Did Dantana cry? Please tell me Dantana cried," Don pleaded, a smug grin on his face. "Don't let me down here, Rebecca. You made him cry, right?"

"His eyes were suspiciously wet, yes," Rebecca answered and Don pumped his fist into the air.

"I want to do a fucking cartwheel right now," Don stated.

"Can you do a cartwheel?" Mac asked in surprise. "Because I'd really like to see that." Will laughed, feeling light and giddy in a way that was rare. He wanted to celebrate with his staff, of course he did, this was their shared victory, but if he was honest, what he _really_ wanted was to pull his fiancée into his office and wrap themselves in each other. He wanted to say hell with the show that night, and retreat to his apartment and worship her body until they were in a satiated, boneless pile in the middle of his bed, much like they had celebrated their engagement.

"What happened?" Will asked Rebecca.

"He saw reason," Rebecca shrugged. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go bask in my greatness and Lee's going to treat me to a fucking expensive lunch that I have more than earned. Don't celebrate too hard, you have a show to do tonight, and do a good fucking job, or else you'll have squandered my hard won victory." She polished off her drink, handed Charlie the empty glass and then walked away.

* * *

It was not, all things considered, the best show they had ever done. It had been hastily thrown together in the midst of slightly drunken celebrations, but MacKenzie could not bring herself to care.

Dantana had lost. They had _won_.

And Rebecca had managed to make it happen before Dantana's accusations against Mac had hit the news wire.

It was almost too much to hope for.

The staff had insisted on continuing the celebration down at Hang Chew's, and though it was the last thing that Mac wanted to do, she and Will agreed to go down for a couple of drinks. Will bought the first round, to the sound of cheers from the employees, and they settled down in a booth with Sloan, Don, and Jim. Mac sipped at her wine and leaned back against Will, his arm slung around her shoulder.

"I just can't believe it," Sloan repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. "I thought...well, shit, I don't know I thought. I had hoped that Rebecca would pull it off, but I just didn't think...I thought it would drag on longer, I guess. Not that I'm not so relieved it's over, because I am, but I just..." Don silenced her with a kiss.

"Stop talking," he instructed, and Sloan nodded, taking a long drink and beaming.

Mac reached up to take Will's hand, the one around her shoulder, and gave it a squeeze.

"We can get out of here," he whispered into her ear. "Everyone will understand."

"Or they'll be too drunk to care," Mac laughed lightly. "Buy another round, Billy, and take me home." Will dropped a kiss into her hair and stood, ordering another round for everyone and closing out his tab.

"We're going to leave," Will announced reaching down to tug Mac to her feet. Sloan pouted slightly, but hugged Mac and gave Will a kiss on the cheek. They made their way through the staff, saying goodbye, before Mac slipped her hand into Will's and they finally made it out the door.

Will hailed a cab and gave the driver his address. Mac hadn't officially moved in with Will yet, but she also hadn't been back to her own apartment, with the exception of grabbing clean clothes, in what felt like ages. They just hadn't broached the subject yet of her moving in. It was similar to Mac not wanting to tell Will about her PTSD, about her nightmares, about her time spent embedded. Her moving in was another conversation that had the potential to rock the boat.

But now, without the specter of the lawsuit and potential trial looming over them, Mac thought it was maybe time to have that conversation.

Maybe even have a conversation about setting a date, which was yet another thing they hadn't talked about yet. It was as if they had made a huge step forward, and then just stopped. It was all too much, with dealing with the lawsuit and trying to rehab their show, to also plan a move and a wedding.

She was quiet during the cab ride home, her thumb absentmindedly running up and down the back of Will's hand. Will didn't press her on it until they were in his apartment.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asked, and she steeled herself and then went for it, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she had time to think about it.

"I'd like to move in," she answered, and his eyes widened in surprise. "And I'd like to set a date." She had caught him off guard, she knew, and there was a pause that felt like it lasted a lot longer than MacKenzie suspected it actually had, before a wide grin spread across his face and he nodded, moving towards her and kissing her hard.

"I'll take that as a yes," Mac laughed when Will pulled back.

"Yes, yes, _yes_ ," Will punctuated every yes with a kiss.

"I love you," she said, and the look Will gave her, _oh God_ , she felt it all the way down to her toes.

"I love you," he echoed.

Mac's day might not have started off great, but she acknowledged, as they stumbled through the apartment, shedding clothes on the way to what would be _their_ bedroom, she couldn't have asked for a better way to end it.


	9. Automatic bought the years you'd talk to me

Will’s arm was slung over her stomach, his breathing even, and Mac thought he had fallen asleep until his voice, soft and gentle, broke the stillness in the dark room. **  
**

“Where’d you go today?” Will asked, his face muffled from where it was buried in the space between her neck and collarbone. “When Charlie came in to announce Dantana dropped the suit, no one could find you. Where’d you go?” Mac sighed, running her fingers through his hair. **  
**

“I went to my psychiatrist,” she admitted. “I haven’t really taken any of the pills she prescribed me, and I thought maybe I could use a new prescription.” She knows he caught the end of her panic attack earlier, and he shares a bed with her now, so he also knows that she still hasn’t been sleeping all that well, but she’s not sure if he knows the extent of it. **  
**

“It’s worse than you’ve been telling me,” he guessed, and she should have known that he would have realized that. Will didn’t miss much. His arm tightened around her.

“Yes,” she admitted, and she felt his head nod. She hesitated. Reliving her time embedded had not been easy, and it was constantly on her mind lately. She had shared her experiences with Will, but she hadn’t let on how much it still was bothering her. “I don’t want to be a burden, Will.” His head snapped up. **  
**

“You could never...I want... _Jesus_ , MacKenzie,” he shook his head. “I _love_ you. Good and bad, all of you.”

“There’s just so much going on,” Mac continued. “I didn’t want to add more stress.”

“You are more important than all of that shit,” he insisted. “You are more important than anything.” He kissed her, then, his hand cradling the back of her head, his lips crashing onto hers. “ _Anything_.”

“I should have told you,” she apologized. **  
**

“Damn straight,” he kissed her one more time before a serious look settled on his face. “How bad is it?” **  
**

“That panic attack you walked in on? It wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence these past few weeks,” she admitted. He swallowed hard and nodded. “It should get better. Without the lawsuit, I mean. That should help a lot.” At the reminder that Dantana had dropped his suit, a grin crept across Will’s face. **  
**

“We _won_ , Mac,” he reminded her. **  
**

“I still can’t believe it,” she murmured. **  
**

“I can’t believe you’re moving in here,” he replied. He kissed her bare shoulder. “I didn’t want to pressure you into moving too fast.” **  
**

“You _couldn’t_ ,” she promised. “I would get married tomorrow if I could. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that abundantly clear.” **  
**

“Tomorrow, huh?” He asked, the grin growing wider. “We could make that happen.” **  
**

“My mother would kill me, and you,” Mac pointed out. “But now that the lawsuit is settled, and there could be no talk of spousal privilege or me marrying you to keep my job, I’d like to get married as soon as we can.” **  
**

There had been rumors, ugly, vicious rumors when they were first engaged. Spousal privilege had been thrown around, there were a few that speculated that MacKenzie might be pregnant, and then it had also been suggested that perhaps Mac was securing her place in the company. It had been the last suggestion that had caused Will to flip his lid. **  
**

“I know that not to be true, and so do you,” she tried to reason with him, but he had been infuriated, and she had given up trying to talk sense into him. **  
**

She wasn’t sure what he had done, exactly, although she had walked past his office as he was demanding to speak to the editor of Page Six, using colorful language that was harsh enough to even make her blush. **  
**

“I want you to have the wedding that you want,” Will said. “If that takes time to plan, I’ll try to be patient.” **  
**

“I don’t need a huge wedding,” Mac insisted, running her fingertips over his chest. “I just need you.” **  
**

“How soon can your parents get here?” Will asked, and it was Mac’s turn to grin. She turned her head to glance at the clock. **  
**

“It’s eight in the morning there, they’re both up I’m sure, let me call them,” she rolled away from him to grab her phone. She felt giddy with excitement as the phone rang and she waited for her parents to answer. Will had sat up, pulling her back against his chest, and she could feel his grin from behind her. Her father answered, and seemed confused by the sound of her voice. **  
**

“MacKenzie? Darling, it’s the middle of the night where you are, what’s happened?” Ted McHale sounded concerned, and Mac was quick to reassure him. **  
**

“I’m fine. It’s fine. I was wondering how fast you and Mum could get here,” Mac said, turning her head to look at Will, her own smile wide. **  
**

“What’s happened?” Her father’s voice sounded panicked now, and she laughed a little. **  
**

“No, Dad, it’s good,” she reassured. “Will and I want to be married. Soon. And I couldn’t possibly do so without you two here.” She heard her father let out a long sigh, and then a bark of laughter. **  
**

“We’ll be on the first plane, sweetheart,” Ted promised. “Your mother’s going to want to take you dress shopping. You’re only going to do this once, you know.” Mac swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat and Will kissed the back of her head. **  
**

“I know,” she nodded, her eyes watery. “Just once.”

* * *

The next morning, Will climbed out of bed and Mac stirred, blinking an eye open at him in confusion. **  
**

“What are you doing up so early?” She asked. They had only gotten to sleep around 4 a.m. and didn’t need to be in the office until at least 10, maybe even later if Mac could persuade Jim to handle the first run-down meeting. **  
**

“I have some errands to run,” Will told her, leaning down to place a soft kiss to her lips. “Don’t worry about it.” **  
**

“Will,” Mac was using her stern voice, but Will kissed her again. “I thought we were trying to be more communicative. _You’re_ being vague and dodgy.” **  
**

‘I’m not trying to be,” he replied. “I’m trying to keep you from worrying about things that you don’t need to worry about.” **  
**

“Well, let me decide if I need to worry about it or not,” she huffed. **  
**

“Dantana,” Will admitted. **  
**

“What?” Mac looked confused. **  
**

“I have some stops first, and then I’m going to see Dantana.” **  
**

“Why in God’s name are you going to see him?” Mac was scrambling to sit up. “It’s over. The lawsuit is over.” **  
**

“I know that,” Will sighed. **  
**

“Then let that be enough,” Mac pleaded. “He lost. Let that be punishment enough.” **  
**

“He went after you,” Will argued, fists forming at his sides. “That’s unacceptable.” **  
**

“Come on, Will, be serious. What are you going to do?” Mac cried. “Beat him up because he picked on your girl?” **  
**

“God, no,” Will shook his head. He paused, and then admitted, “I’m going to take out an ad in the Times with his official college transcript.” Will couldn’t wait to see the look on Dantana’s face when he realized that Will had made his lack of a degree, his college exploits, public knowledge. **  
**

Dantana thought it was fun to air other people’s dirty laundry for his own personal gain? Well, Will was more than happy to give him a taste of his own medicine. **  
**

First, he had to call in some favors at a few different newspapers, and then he owed Mr. Dantana a visit. **  
**

“Will,” Mac tried again. “Just let it be over.” He kissed her again, more fiercely this time, and ran his thumb down her cheek. **  
**

“I can’t,” he shrugged. “I just can’t.” He kissed her one last time. “I’ll see you at the office.”

* * *

Jerry Dantana was having a bad fucking week.

That was an understatement.

First, there was the countersuit by Stomtonovich. The grim look on his attorney’s face when he told Jerry about it was enough to confirm that the odds of Jerry winning that suit were low. And then there was the threat by Rebecca Halliday that the ACN employees, particularly MacKenzie McHale, were planning on countersuing Jerry. That news brought another grim look to his attorney’s face. Gone were the pleased smiles and reassurance that this thing was in the bag. Rebecca’s shit-eating grin was the exact opposite of his lawyer’s nerves and queasy half smiles. Jerry knew, without anyone having to tell him, that this was all Very Bad News.

It had been the lawyers’ idea to focus on MacKenzie. **  
**

“She’ll be easier to rattle than Skinner or McAvoy,” was the reasoning. Jerry agreed with that reasoning, and the truth was that he just didn’t _like_ MacKenzie. Mostly because she never seemed to like him, or trust him (and he had been sure that _it_ _happened_. He wouldn’t have done something like that if he hadn’t believed in the very depths of his soul that it had happened).

He had heard that MacKenzie and Will had gotten engaged on Election Night, and he briefly questioned whether or not the strategy of going after Mac was a sound one. **  
**

“I just think that Will McAvoy will care more about us attacking her than he would if we were attacking him,” Jerry had argued.

“That just makes the plan better!” His attorney insisted. “Really pressure them into settling. I’m sure McAvoy will do whatever it takes to keep her from being dragged through the mud.”

Jerry was of the opinion that Will McAvoy’s anger was more of a liability than anything.

But it didn’t matter now. The lawsuit had been dropped, ACN and Rebecca having outmaneuvered Jerry’s attorneys.

So he was having a shitty week. He couldn’t imagine how it could get worse. He had gone down to the hotel bar and was on his third overpriced drink when he heard his name being called. He didn’t need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, and grimaced as Will McAvoy dropped onto the stool next to him.

“Hello Jerry,” Will greeted pleasantly.

“Will,” Jerry answered miserably.

“We have some unfinished business, you and I,” Will stated. The bartender approached and Will ordered himself a whiskey and then turned to Jerry, “And another of whatever he’s having.” Jerry looked up to see a grin on Will’s face.

“I dropped the suit,” Jerry pointed out. He wasn’t sure what unfinished business Will could be referring to.

“I know,” Will nodded. “But you’ve made a few critical mistakes. Of course, doctoring the footage was stupid, and filing the lawsuit in the first place was even dumber, but the biggest mistake, Jerry? Going after MacKenzie.” Jerry swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he mumbled.

“I don’t really fucking care,” Will’s grin never faltered. He reached into his bag and pulled out a folder. “But what I’m really here for is to give you these. They’re mock-ups of an ad that’s going out in the major papers tomorrow. _The Times, The Wall Street_ Journal, you name it. It’ll be in there. A lot of people owe me a lot of favors, Jerry, and a lot more than _that_ just absolutely adore MacKenzie McHale.” He slapped the folder in front of Jerry, who opened it up and groaned.

“How did you find these?” Jerry asked, his voice tight. He flipped through and felt his stomach drop. “You can’t do this! I’ll never be able to get another job. I’m not going to find one in broadcasting as it is, but I’ll never be able to get any kind of job.”

“Again,” Will drained his drink. “I don’t really fucking care. You really should have just gone after me.” With that, he patted Jerry on the back and whistled a little as he walked out of the bar.

Jerry had been wrong. It could get worse.


	10. It was what it was to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to wrap this up (and that's pretty impressive for me, mostly because as a general rule I am not good at chaptered fics). I have one more chapter to go after this one. Hopefully you're still enjoying it! If you aren't...don't tell me.

It was amazing what money in the right hands could accomplish. Places that were booked for years in advance suddenly found room, and though both would be quite happy just slipping down to city hall on their lunch break, there had been such outrage at the mere suggestion, that they had compromised.

Small, as in very small, wedding. Slightly bigger dinner to follow. **  
**

Four weeks. That was what they decided on. They’d get married in four weeks. **  
**

Mac’s parents booked a flight, arriving in two weeks before so that MacKenzie’s mother could take her dress shopping. **  
**

“I won’t be denied taking my only daughter wedding dress shopping,” Helene had said firmly, and Mac had hummed an agreement, carefully choosing her battles. **  
**

Her brother Freddy was coming in on the Thursday before, promising that he’d take his future brother-in-law out that night for a stag night. **  
**

“Make sure he sows his wild oats before hitching himself to a McHale for the rest of his natural days,” Freddy had teased, and Will had rolled his eyes. **  
**

“I’m fifty. I’ve sowed _plenty_ of oats already,” Will argued, to which MacKenzie raised an elegant eyebrow in his direction. **  
**

“How many oats are we talking about here?” She asked, and Will stammered, having the decency to look ashamed about the line of bimbos that he had paraded through the office trying to make Mac jealous. It had worked, of course, but that was neither here nor there. **  
**

“Not that many,” he mumbled, and she took pity on her fiance, kissing his flushed cheek. **  
**

“Don’t worry, Freddy will be jet lagged, I’m sure you can keep up,” she assured. **  
**

Sloan was asked to be Mac’s maid of honor, and her response had been decidedly un-Sloan like. **  
**

“You squealed,” Mac said in amazement after Sloan had thrown her arms around Mac’s neck, nearly knocking her off-balance in the process. “You honest to God _squealed_.”  **  
**

“I’m just...I’ve never been asked to _be_ in a wedding, let alone the maid of honor before!” Sloan exclaimed. Her voice took on a serious note and she held Mac’s hand tightly and looked her straight in the eye. “I won’t let you down.”  **  
**

“I’m not sure if you could,” Mac replied, with a light laugh. **  
**

“Well, I won’t,” Sloan told her. “Seriously. I _won’t_. I’ll be the best maid of honor ever.” **  
**

“I believe you, Sloan,” Mac assured her. “Honestly, I do. You won’t let me down. You couldn’t.” **  
**

Mac cornered Jim after she left Sloan’s office, tugging him  with her to her own office and closing the door behind them. **  
**

“What’s up Mac?” He asked. **  
**

“I’ve asked Sloan to be my maid of honor,” Mac started. Jim nodded. He had figured as much. “But I can’t imagine getting married without you standing up there with me too. You’ve done more than I can ever begin to repay you for.” **  
**

“Mac,” Jim tried, blushing and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I didn’t do anything…” **  
**

“You _did_ ,” she interrupted, her voice fierce. “You’ve followed me through fire, been shot in the ass, and then quit your job and followed me here so that I didn’t have to face Will alone.”  **  
**

“Mac,” he tried again. **  
**

“I want you by my side when I get married. Will you stand up with me?” Mac asked. “And I’ll do both of us the favor of not trying to come up with some clever name for it, like man of honor or some bullshit like that.”Jim swallowed hard, and nodded. **  
**

“I’d be honored,” he finally said, and Mac beamed, coming around to hug him tightly. **  
**

“Thanks, Jim,” she said softly. **  
**

* * *

For his part, Will asked Charlie to be his best man, and Charlie had clapped his hands together, and then rocked back on his heels. **  
**

“This calls for a drink,” Charlie declared, pouring a glass of scotch for both he and Will. “To finally getting our heads out of our asses!” Will rolled his eyes, but drank up all the same. **  
**

“I’m going to ask Maggie too,” Will told Charlie, settling down in the seat across from him. “To stand up there with me. Mac’s asking Sloan and Jim, but Maggie, you know, she stuck by me when most people would have cut their losses and ran.” **  
**

Will wasn’t sure how Maggie was going to react, but he thought she would be pleased. What she was was overwhelmed, a beautiful, wide smile splitting her face. **  
**

“Seriously?” She asked, and shook her head a couple of times. “Will, I’m not...I would love... _seriously_?”  **  
**

“Seriously,” he nodded. **  
**

“I’d...love that, Will,” she admitted, bit her bottom lip, and then launched herself into his arms. “Thank you.” **  
**

Mac had passed by his office just then, and caught his eye with a smile. **  
**

It was coming together quite nicely, Will thought. Things were looking up. Mac’s nightmares had abated, thanks to the dropped lawsuit and regular appointments with her therapist. Will hadn’t heard from Jerry Dantana since his transcripts, or lack thereof, had been public knowledge, and if Will never saw that asshole’s face again it would be too soon. **  
**

Don had came tearing into Will’s office the morning after, slamming _The Post_ and _The Times_ on Will’s desk. **  
**

“You son of a bitch,” Don said, and Will was slightly startled until a grin broke out on Don’s face. “I can’t believe you got to do this. I’m so jealous.” **  
**

“Admittedly, it felt good,” Will leaned back in his chair. **  
**

“I’m sure it did,” Don shook his head. “I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have seen his stupid face.” Don paused, and then his voice dropped, and took on a serious quality. “I would have done the same, if they had gone after the woman I loved? Dantana’s lucky that’s all you did.” He flashed Will a quick smile, breaking the moment, “Of course, Mac would have have been pretty pissed if you ended up in jail before you were married.” Will scoffed. **  
**

“Mac would have _killed_ me,” he corrected. Don laughed. **  
**

“I’m imagining the look on MacKenzie’s face,” he told Will. He closed his eyes and held up his hand. “Oh, wait, there it is. Oh yeah. I’ve seen that look before.” Will didn’t have to stretch too far to know exactly what look Don was referring to. **  
**

“Oh God, now I am too,” Will groaned. **  
**

“She’s downright scary sometimes,” Don admitted. **  
**

“You’re telling me,” Will muttered. **  
**

“Good job, though,” Don said as he turned to leave. “Seriously. Dantana deserves every bit of what’s coming to him. I’m just pissed I didn’t think of it first.”

* * *

Mac was too busy to actually plan the wedding, so they hired someone to do it for them. Mac had never been one to care too much about that kind of thing, so the wedding planner had long stopped asking Mac’s opinion on one thing or another, since every question ended with Mac waving her hand and telling the wedding planner, Julie, “I trust your opinion. This is what we hired you for!”  **  
**

She and Will did, however, make time to go meet her parents when her flight came in. Mac stood shifting from foot to foot anxious for their arrival. Mac didn’t make it home nearly as often as she would have liked, and she had missed her parents like hell lately. She surprised both her and her mother when her eyes welled up with tears as Helene McHale wrapped her arms around her. **  
**

“What’s this, then?” Helene asked, tilting Mac’s chin to look at her. Will was chatting with her father while they waited for their luggage, and neither was paying any attention to the women. Mac had beamed at the sight of her father and Will hugging, her two favorite men, and had felt overwhelmed with a kind of contentedness she had never experienced. It washed over her and she had taken a deep breath and stepped back into her mother’s waiting arms. **  
**

“I just missed you,” Mac mumbled, burying her head in her mother’s shoulders once more. It had been an emotionally exhausting couple of months, and Mac took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of her mother’s familiar perfume. **  
**

“We’ve missed you too, darling,” Helene replied, stroking MacKenzie’s hair. Mac and Will had been unable to get back to London for Christmas, not with all the things happening in New York, and so it had been longer than usual since Mac had seen her family. **  
**

“We sure have, Mackie,” her father said, and Mac shifted from her mother to her father. “But we’re here now. And we’ve got a wedding to plan.” Ted met his soon to be son-in-law’s eye from over Mac’s head. Will ducked his head, Ted’s smile wide and contagious. **  
**

“Come on, we’ve got a lot to do,” Helene declared, tucking her hand in the crook of Will’s arm and pointing towards the direction of the waiting car. **  
**

“Thanks for coming, Dad,” Mac said softly as she and her father followed a few steps behind. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. **  
**

“Like I’d be anywhere else,” Ted replied simply. “We’re really happy for you two, you know.” **  
**

“I know,” Mac said, swallowing hard, and bit her lip hard. “We’re really happy too.” It was odd, being this happy, and Mac was starting to finally get used to it. They had no lawsuit hanging over their heads, but they still had to work on getting their show back to where it was, and that was no small feat. **  
**

But things, on the whole, were good. Really, quite good, and Mac was desperately trying to stop feeling like the other shoe was about to drop. **  
**

It wasn’t, she reminded herself. It wasn’t, it wasn’t, it _wasn’t_. **  
**

 _Just be happy_ , she commanded herself. _Live in the moment_. Which was certainly easier said than done. **  
**

But right now, her mother laughing at something Will had said, her father’s arm around her, it seemed like being happy, _this_ happy could be something she could get used to.

* * *

“Are you concerned about Jerry Dantana retaliating against you?” Charlie said by way of greeting when he let himself in Will’s office after Will had gotten back from picking up the McHales. They had all gone to lunch, and Mac had gone back with her parents to her apartment, where they would be staying. **  
**

“It’s not like I’m staying there anymore,” Mac had argued to her mother on the phone. “It’ll be a lot more comfortable than a hotel room.”  Will had been under the old-fashioned viewpoint that, while it was certainly no secret that they were sleeping together, it wasn’t something an unmarried woman should flaunt either. Mac had looked at him in disbelief when he had said that, muttering about midwestern puritanical values. **  
**

“They know we have sex, Will,” she pointed out. “I’m nearly forty, for God’s sake. And, it’s not 1953 anymore!” Will had quickly conceded, but Mac couldn’t help but tell Sloan, who told everyone, and Will had been the target of much teasing for the next few days. **  
**

“No,” Will said bluntly. **  
**

“No?” **  
**

“What’s he going to do?” Will asked. “He took us on and lost. He’s too much of a coward to try again. Besides, he’s still got Stomtonovich’s suit, he’s got more important things to worry about than trying to get revenge against me.” **  
**

“Mac’s parents get in okay?” Charlie asked, changing the subject. Will nodded. **  
**

“Mac’ll be in once she gets them settled,” Will said. He stopped and narrowed his eyes in Charlie’s direction. “Are you afraid of Jerry Dantana retaliating against us? Is there something you know that I don’t?” Charlie sighed. **  
**

“There’s nothing to link Dantana, and most likely it’s because Genoa is once again in the news, but there’s been a ramp up of death threats against you,” Charlie explained. **  
**

“Don’t fucking tell me I have to have a bodyguard again,” Will pointed his finger at Charlie. **  
**

“It wouldn’t be the worst idea,” Charlie pointed out. “But no, so far none have been determined serious enough to force you to have protection. Don’t you miss Lonny?” Will let out a bark of laughter and Charlie smirked. **  
**

“I think we both know the answer to that,” Will said. **  
**

“Well be careful, is all,” Charlie said, turning towards the door. “And also? The counterattack on Dantana? Fucking brilliant, Will. I wish I had thought of it myself.” Will ducked his head and nodded. “Didn’t even graduate, what a little fucker.” Charlie shook his head in disbelief and let himself out of Will’s office. **  
**

Will wasn’t worried about the death threats. He never had been. He _was_ worried about MacKenzie, despite her scoffs and repeated insistence to the contrary. Will knew that as the public face of ACN he would be the most likely target, but Mac’s name had been thrown around enough lately in both respected and garbage publications that she was becoming more visible, and the idea that someone might hurt Mac for her own part in Genoa, or because of her connection to _him_ , was enough to make Will ache.  **  
**

He shook the thoughts of his head. He knew, better than anyone, that he had a knack of focusing on the negative, but there was so much to be happy about that he was trying, earnestly trying, to focus on that instead. **  
**

Mac was going to be his wife. In a matter of two weeks, MacKenzie was going to be his _wife_. It was mind-blowing. She was, at that very moment, discussing wedding plans with her mother. Wedding plans. To _him_.  **  
**

And Dantana was gone. Out of their lives. **  
**

Will shook his head again, and couldn’t help but smile. **  
**

His wife. MacKenzie. Would wonders ever cease? ****  
  
  
  



	11. Now to know it in my memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This about does it for this one. Thanks for sticking with me! You all deserve a cookie, or a hug, or a beer. Whatever you prefer.

It was late, or really, actually _early_ , when Will rolled over to find the bed next to him empty and the sheets cool to the touch. He had a feeling that a nightmare had woken Mac up, but the combination of satiation and champagne had made him sleep right through it. He felt a twinge of guilt at that, but brushed it off. If it had been one of her bad nightmares he wouldn’t have been able to sleep through it no matter how tired or how much he had had to drink.

He groaned as he glanced over at the clock and then slipped out of the warm bed to go find his wife.

Wife.

MacKenzie had been his wife for a full nine hours, and he was wondering how long it would take for him to be able to wrap his mind around that fact, that word _wife_ , the concept that they were married, bound to one another legally.

It had been a beautiful wedding. The wedding planner had done an outstanding job considering how little time they gave her. Maggie and Charlie came down together first, moving to stand next to Will, followed by Sloan on Jim’s arm. She looked beautiful, but nothing compared to MacKenzie. Mac had taken his breath away when she appeared on her father’s arm at the end of the aisle, a nervous smile on her face. Will had kissed her immediately when she finally arrived at his side, unable to wait any longer.

“You’re supposed to wait until they tell you to kiss your bride,” Mac admonished with a grin that appeared to be permanent.

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” he replied with his own wide smile.

They promised to love, honor, and cherish each other and when they were pronounced husband and wife, Charlie had let out a low whistle and muttered, “it’s about fucking time.” Mac had laughed at that, a giddy, breathless laugh and kissed her new husband hard on the mouth.

To be honest, most of the rest of the night was a blur. He remembered glass after glass of champagne being pressed into his and Mac’s hands, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the attention, and she had looked so incredibly beautiful and so incredibly _his_ that he had a hard time thinking about anything but her.

Will had long lost his jacket, dancing and drinking, but drawing the line when Tess tried to get everyone to do some sort of shuffle.

“I don’t do group dances,” he said firmly. Instead he had tugged Mac to a shadowy corner where he kissed her soundly and twisted a curl that had fallen out of her updo around his finger and repeated how beautiful she looked.

It was nearly midnight when they stumbled into the hotel suite they had booked for the night. Mac was half drunk as she kicked off her shoes and looked over her shoulder at her husband.

“Unbutton me?” She had asked, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He ran his hands up her bare arms, pressing the lightest of kisses to the back of her neck before slowly undoing what felt like a thousand tiny pearl buttons on the ivory dress that she and her mother had picked out. Mac let it pool at her feet and stepped out, still wearing her heels and he pushed her back onto the large bed.

The dress was still there in a puddle, right where they had left it, as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. Will tugged on a pair of boxers and pushed open the door that separated the bedroom from the sitting room and found his new bride curled up on the small loveseat, swaddled in a robe, her feet tucked up underneath her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said guiltily when he stepped through the doorway.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Nightmare?” She shook her head.

“No, I just couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. Will dropped down next to her and she curled herself around him, resting her head on his bare shoulder. “I’m just overwhelmed, I think.” He ran a hand down the back of her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Happy, of course,” she glanced up at him quickly.

“Of course,” he repeated with a small smile.

“I’m just so happy,” she shrugged. “And I’m not sure...I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. It’s just…” she breathed out, “a lot.”

“I’m sure I’ll do something stupid soon enough to piss you off and balance out all this happiness,” he reassured her with a grin.

“I’m sure you will,” she deadpanned. Mac straightened her legs and draped them across his lap, and Will dropped a hand onto her ankle, before running a thumb up her bare leg.

“We deserve to be this happy,” he told her after a beat. “We’ve earned it. We deserve it. After all the shit we’ve both been through, the shit that we’ve gone through together, and the shit that I’ve put us through…”

“Will,” she started, and he shook his head.

“We’re not going to start a who is more to blame argument,” he silenced her with a kiss. “We’ve both made mistakes, we’ve both been idiots, but we’ve done our time and our penance and we get to be happy now, Mac. It’s our goddamn due. I’m unbelievably happy. _You_ make me unbelievably happy, and I’m going to just let myself be as happy as I can for as long as I can.”

“I love you, you know that?” Mac smiled at him.

“I do, in fact, know that,” Will replied.

“Let’s go back to bed, husband,” Mac’s smile widened as the words slipped out of her mouth and she shook her head.

“Say it again,” he prompted.

“Husband,” she repeated. She threw her legs off his lap, and stood, reaching her hand down to pull him to his feet. Will leaned down to kiss her, and then in one smooth move, reached down and scooped her into his arms. Mac squealed. “You idiot! You’re going to hurt your knees!”

“Shut it, Mac,” he instructed. “Let me carry my wife to bed.”

“No whining about your aches in the morning, old man,” Mac warned.

“You really know how to kill a moment, you know that?” Will muttered.

“That’s why you love me,” she pointed out.

“God help me, I do,” Will replied, carrying her into the bedroom, stepping over the pile of clothes in the middle of the floor to deposit her on the bed, slipping out of his boxers and under the covers next to her.


End file.
